Victory
by compy chompy
Summary: The white knight had checkmated the black king. He had his revenge. Red John was dead and his family avenged, but his tea had tasted bitter. His world still felt empty, but he had won right? Is this what victory felt like? Post 3x24 AU, Contains Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Hi. This is my first attempt at Mentalist Fan Fic. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer- I own nothing. I'm just borrowing the characters for a test drive around the block. I promise to put them back where I found them. No money is, was or will ever be made from this. Simon Baker is awesome!

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><p><strong>[Chapter 1]<strong>

Surrender. Defeat. Numbness.

But wait, he'd won, hadn't he? The white knight had checkmated the black king. He had his revenge. Red John was dead and his family avenged. But his tea had tasted bitter. His world still felt empty, but he had won right?

Security swarmed him. Mall cops with guns. He felt no fear or nervousness. He had before, every time a suspect pulled a gun on or near him, but not now. He didn't even realize he had put his hands on his head or had dropped money on the table to pay for his tea and Bertram's coffee. He felt nothing.

The world felt muted. His brain told him that he was being addressed, but he could not find the will to care.

Is this what victory felt like?

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><p>The gunman did not resist.<p>

The mall cops trained their guns on him and called for SAC PD. The suspect patiently waited with his hands on his head.

"That's Jane. He's a CBI consultant," one of the arriving uniformed officers stated. He waved the mall cops off and approached the table and picked up the gun.

Officer Langley had met the consultant before and had spoken to him on several occasions. He had heard the stories about Jane's family and about his quirky, outlandish, mischievous antics and knew what to expect.

"Mr. Jane?"

Langley lead him from his seat, patted him down, emptied the contents of his pockets, cuffed him and sat him back down in his chair. Jane made no attempt to resist, move or speak.

"Mr. Jane? Hello?"

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><p>He sounded off. She pressed redial, but he didn't answer his phone. She called him again with the same result.<p>

"Cho, you coordinate with Sherriff." Lisbon forced herself to a sitting position and leaned on the coffee table. Her senior agent nodded and headed outside to speak with the officers as they arrived. "Rigsby!"

Lisbon looked in his direction. He was standing there staring at Van Pelt, unsure if he should pull her away from the body.

"Rigsby!" Lisbon yelled louder snapping him out of his daze.

"Yes boss?"

"Go find Jane."

"But boss..."

"That's an order. I need Cho to coordinate here. And Van Pelt..." Her mind flashed back to the pink bride's maid dress. She forced herself to stand and regretted it. Pain radiated down her arm and she swayed slightly as black spots filled her vision. Then the lightheadedness set in as she held the kitchen towel to staunch the bleeding.

She pushed all her emotions down and needed to take charge of the situation. They needed her to take charge of the situation.

They completed what the set out to do. Jane's plan had worked. They found the mole, but it still felt so wrong.

"Agent Rigsby…" Hightower grabbed his arm and led him to the door. "I know you want to stay with Van Pelt, but we need to make sure the rest of the team is uninjured. Jane is part of your team. Find him and bring him to the hospital. He'll want to make sure Lisbon's okay. We'll take care of Grace."

Rigsby nodded and headed to the Suburban.

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><p>It was easy enough to find Jane. All Rigsby had to do was activate the GPS tracker in Jane's phone. It showed him the general vicinity of where he was located. And to make things simple, Jane was actually where he and Cho had left him.<p>

Things of course would not be that simple. When he arrived at the mall all the exits were blocked off by ESU and SWAT. There were news vans everywhere. There were choppers in the air.

He was getting that sinking feeling, because everything was going so well today. It was easy enough to gain access. He flashing his badge towards every officer he had seen.

He stopped short when he realized the incident in question took place exactly where he had left Jane earlier.

There was a large pool of blood in the middle of the food court.

He held his breath. This was bad.

Rigsby felt his heart sink as the corner was placing a body bag onto the gurney.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer- Nope. I still don't own anything. Really, I just want to play with them, like they're action figures. I promise to put them back where I found them. No money is, was, or ever will be made from this.**

**I am a Ronin, a beta-less samurai. Any mistakes are all mine. I tried to keep them to a minimum. I uh hope.**

**Thank you to everyone who left a review or added this to their story alert and favorites list. :)**

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><p><strong>[Chapter 2]<strong>

She tried not to listen to the sirens as it wailed too loud and made her headache worse. She tried not to wince every time the ambulance hit a bump or pothole and jostled her shoulder. She tried not to remember the distracted, pensive sound of Jane's voice when he hung up the phone. She tried not to glance over at Van Pelt, who insisted she was fine and that it was all right. She tried not to think of all the different scenarios that ran through her head as to why Jane was not answering his phone.

The adrenaline finally wore off and she was just tired and in pain. All she wanted was a drink to numb away the day. The narcotics they gave her at the scene weren't doing it.

Her instincts were telling here there was something really wrong and the guilt was eating away at her. Why couldn't she have answered Jane's call faster. If she had done that, Grace would not have had to kill her fiancé.

She tried to reach into her pocket with her good arm, but it was a struggle. She needed her phone. She needed a status report from Cho and Rigsby. She needed to check on Jane.

"Boss?"

She tried not to look her junior agent in the eye, because she knew she could see right through Grace's mask, the hurt, the betrayal and the anguish, all bubbling to the surface. That Grace's life and emotions were just a game, a toy, to be played with, a pawn in Red John's game. The engagement was a farce. Lisbon hoped that this would not break her junior agent's optimism and hope for humanity.

"I think she's in pain…" Grace told the medic. "Can you give her something more for the pain?"

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><p>Two SAC PD officers grabbed Rigsby as he tried to push his way across the police tape.<p>

"I'm a Federal Agent, CBI, let me through." Rigsby flashed his badge to gain access. He ran straight to the corner and the gurney and unzipped the bag. It wasn't Jane.

He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it was just coincidental, Rigsby thought to himself. The feeling of worry and dread did not leave him when looked at the man in the body bag. It increased tenfold. And Jane would tell him there is no such thing as coincidences.

"Jane where are you?" he mumbled to himself.

"We recovered this weapon next to the body, a .38 with hollow points." A man dressed in a slightly stained blue oxford shirt said as he approached Rigsby. He held up an evidence bag for him to see. He held up a different bag in his other hand, and spoke again, "and this is the weapon, the . 45, we recover next to your consultant. You're here about Patrick Jane, right? You look like you're with CBI, must be the suit… Agent…"

"Rigsby." He flashed his badge again. Rigsby took an instant dislike to the guy. If Jane were here, he put twenty down that this would be the guy Jane would bait. "Jane doesn't have a gun."

"Witness say that a guy in a suit and vest walked up to that guy and started firing."

"He get's squeamish when he sees a gun. You're telling me that he shot and killed this guy?"

"That's what several witness say. One was standing 20 feet from him. When we arrived he was sitting here drinking tea with the gun next to him," Mills said

"Where is he now?"

"We took him down to the precinct. He left five minutes ago."

"We're taking over this investigation."

"On what grounds?"

"This is a Red John case. We have jurisdiction."

"Red John? Please, this is you guys trying to take over to protect your man. He shot him in cold blood. Damn Feds… If this is Red John, where is the damn smiley?"

"Listen Detective…"

"Mills."

"You would not believe the day I'm having, but believe me when I tell you, honest to god, that this is a Red John case."

"What is it with you Feds?"

"Ronnie don't…" Officer Langley tried to intervene. Mills handed him the evidence and approached Rigsby, invading his personal space.

"You Feds? You don't even know me." Rigsby answered.

"Yeah, know you. You guys are all the same."

"And that would be…"

"Agent Rigsby! Back down. Now."

Rigsby let of a frustrated growl, but did as he was told. He walked over to his superiors who had just arrived at the scene and gave them a run down of the situation. The CBI Director was joined by LaRoche, two other field agents, and a Captain from SAC PD.

"Sir, they took Jane into custody, said he shot the guy. O'Laughlin was Red John's mole, he killed two deputies, shot Lisbon, before Hightower and Van Pelt killed him. "

"You guys seem to have had a busy afternoon." CBI Agent Garrison quipped.

"Is Agent Lisbon okay?" LaRoche asked.

"I think so Sir. She was conscious and alert when she ordered me to find Jane. Van Pelt called for assistance and Agent Cho is coordinating the scene there." Rigsby explained.

"What a mess." Bertram sighed.

"No kidding…" Garrison's comment caused his superiors to glare at him. Bailey, the lead agent on the team, motioned for him to go elsewhere. "Uh, I think I'll go and coordinate with the local LEOs and get the evidence transfer to us."

"Mills! Let's go. CBI is taking over this investigation." Johnson called out.

"Captain?" Mills questioned his superior. He walked over to his Captain, not sure if he heard him right. This was an open and closed case. They had the gun. They had the surveillance video. They even had the suspect in custody and several witness to prove it. It was a slam dunk!

"Let it go, Mills. This is a Red John case and we do not want to get involved." Captain Johnson repeated.

"But Captain…" Mills protested. "Where's the smiley?"

"Let it go. Don't make me repeat myself again." Johnson threatened. "Come on, we can still catch the River Cats game."

Mills hated baseball. It was too slow and a waste of time.

"Damn Feds…" Mills stomped off, but not without bumping Rigsby roughly in the shoulder.

Agent Bailey grabbed Rigsby's arm and shook his head no. The situation was bad enough as it is and did not need to get worse.

"I don't envy you Gale. You have one hell of a shit storm coming your way. First the Hightower thing and now your consultant goes off the rails. Well enjoy." Johnson waved goodbye and caught up to his Detective to reprimand him.

"Yeah…" Bertram turned to LaRoche. "J.J., I know you'll handle things here. I've got to coordinate with Brenda**, **call the GA and the FBI. The media is going to love this."

"Yes Sir." LaRoche nodded.

LaRoche instructed the other agents before turning his attention back to Rigsby.

"Your team is off the case and will be put on restrictive duty desk, pending this investigation. Bailey and his team will take over."

"But Sir, with all due respect, this is our case. We've been on it the longest. We've made the most progress…"

"And now your team is too involved. There is one thing you can do though…"

"Sir?"

"Go pick Jane up from the precinct and transport him back to CBI."

"Yes Sir."

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><p>Once he reached the parking garage, Rigsby let out an aggravated, frustrated yell. He kicked a nearby garbage can a few times with enough force to dent it permanently. When that wasn't enough, he paced back and forth for a few minutes, rubbed both hands across his face and willed himself to calm down.<p>

He needed to check in. Rigsby reached into his pocket and hastily pulled out his phone. Several other objects came out with it and fell to the concrete. He quickly scooped up his belongings, but paused at the quarter that shined up at him. He picked it up, a two headed coin, a good luck charm, and held it tight in his hand.

Jane, man what happen?

He hoped Ockham's Razor was wrong.

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**How am I doing so far? I wonder about the characterization. If I'm slowly falling OOC. If it's still believable?**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing as stated in the previous chapters.**

**[Chapter 3]**

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><p>He told himself it was shock. That the feeling of emptiness would fade after a few hours, after his brain processed the events of the day.<p>

They stripped him of his clothes and possessions, and gave him a bright orange jumpsuit to wear, and slip on shoes. His clothes were evidence. That was his favorite suit. It was ruined anyway. He doubted the three holes in the pocket could be repaired, and the smell of gun power would ever fade. Or if the cast off would wash out. And if they did, he would remember. He would always remember.

He was put into protective custody. This time he did not protest. Jane wanted to be alone.

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><p>"No, it's okay, take the shackles off," Rigsby stated.<p>

"But Agent Rigsby, he's killed someone at the mall. Policy dictates that we hand over to you shackled. He can be a danger to you," the officer explained.

"He's my responsibility. And I've signed the transfer forms, so if anything happens, it's on me. Besides he can get out of the shackles if he really wanted to. And it's innocent until proven guilty. He is just suspected of killing a guy at the mall. Uncuff him," Rigsby insisted.

"No, I killed him," Jane stated flatly.

"Jane you're not helping," Rigsby said.

"Rigsby, just cuff me if it's policy," Jane argued.

"You don't think he's a flight risk?" The officer inquired.

"No. I don't believe he did it?" Rigsby said.

"How do you know that?" The officer asked.

"I know him," Rigsby stated.

"Not as well as you think, but you are right, I won't run. I have nowhere to go," Jane said.

The officer unshackled Jane and continued to process the forms. Jane absentmindedly rubbed his wrists, while Rigsby impatiently drummed his fingers on the counter.

"Are you sure you're CBI? You're very flippant with your prisoner," The officer asked.

"Yes he is. He is Wayne Rigsby, Junior Agent, CBI. If you don't believe me go and get the finger print scanner and check his prints. We'll wait… Never mind I'll show you."

Jane placed Rigsby's badge and ID on the counter. He also produced a pair of handcuffs and cuffed his wrists together. He held out his arms for everyone to see.

"There are you happy now?" Jane asked.

"Hey!" Rigsby instinctively checked his pockets to see if anything else was missing.

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><p>Once they pulled off from the parking lot, Jane sat in the front seat with his head leaning on the passenger window. The whole facade was wear wearing thin. It took more out of him to act normal, but he did it for Rigsby's sake.<p>

"This is all my fault. If you had been with us when we left the mall the whole thing wouldn't have happened," Rigsby said as they enter the stop and go flow of the evening commute.

Jane truly didn't believe that. He would have killed Red John, even if the team was there. Even if the team tried to stop him.

"One of us should have stayed with you at the mall."

It wouldn't have helped. Solving cases was a distraction from the memories. While waiting for the right opportunity to appear. While he waited for Red John to poke his head out of hiding.

"Where did you get a gun from anyway? I thought you hated guns."

Did Max originally feel this way when he got his wife's killer? He made mental note to get into contact with him and ask him, after the dust settled. Like it was a support group.

"That guy was Red John? That's the only thing that would make you go off like that. Damn."

Jane jumped as Rigsby slammed his fist down onto the steering wheel. He frowned as he saw the anger and pain in his eyes.

"And when I saw that pool if blood in the food court, man, I thought it was you."

He never wanted to hurt them. He knew his actions would have consequences. He tried not to care. Five years was a long time to work with them and not care.

"I'm glad you're okay, you know, considering…"

Was it okay? This was his driving force his sole purpose for years. With that gone, he felt empty, hollow.

"Pull into the drive through." Jane said breaking his silence.

"What?"

"Pull into the drive through. I'm hungry."

Rigsby did as he was told. He pulled into the McDonald's drive through and waited.

"You got me right? Cause you know..." he held up his handcuffed hands and motioned towards the jumpsuit.

"Yeah, sure. What do you want?"

"I don't know. What's good. Surprise me. You're eating too. I don't want to be the only one."

"Yeah, okay."

Rigsby ordered food, pulled up to the window and waited for the cashier.

The cashier stared at them suspiciously, Jane's bright orange jumpsuit an odd sight.

"I'm his love slave. He likes role playing." Jane showed her the hand cuffs and began rubbing Rigsby's arm.

"Dude, stop feeling me up. I'm a cop and he's my prisoner."

Jane chuckled at the mortified look on Rigsby's face.

"Big bad cop. See role playing…" Jane grinned.

The cashier just continued to stare at them and said nothing. She handed them their food and quickly shut the window.

Rigsby glared at Jane for a moment, laughed, and then pulled off. They made it a block down, before they go stuck in traffic.

"How's Lisbon," Jane asked quietly.

"She was still in surgery, when I checked in with Cho, before I picked you up. She should be fine. O'Laughlin's a crappy shot…"

Jane fiddled with the contents of the bag. The burger and fries were not that appealing. Nothing sounded appealing. He glanced over and watched Rigsby inhale his meal.

"And Grace?"

Rigsby didn't answer. He clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Jane could see the turmoil across his face. He didn't know all the details, but he knew O'Lauglin was dead.

Jane reached over and tapped Rigsby on the shoulder.

"Listen to the sound if my voice. None of this is your fault. There will be tough times ahead. You will keep a clear and level head through it all. My actions were my own. And most importantly you will take care of the team. Do you understand?"

"Yes..."

"Good..."

Jane tapped him on the shoulder once more and gave him a sad smile.

"What just happened?"

"You zoned out on me."

"I did? I must be tired. You didn't eat your food."

"I'm not hungry. Do you want it?"

Jane went back to staring out the window.

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer- I still own nothing. If I did, Rigsby would somehow be shirtless in every episode... Ooohhh shirtless...

Sorry just ignore me... :D

**[Chapter 4]**

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><p>Everything was hazy, fuzzy, warm, and good. Her brain told her that. It also told her to hold onto that feeling, let it engulf her and pay no mind to the voice on her left speaking.<p>

That voice was not familiar, and had an arrogant, annoying, and whiny air to it.

There voice was another voice from the other side, on her right. She knew this one, as it droned in a familiar monotonous tone. Her brain told her she should listen to this one. In five minutes. It wouldn't hurt to hold this feeling just for five more minutes.

She concentrated on nothing, except for the happy, floaty feeling. Lisbon kept her eyes closed and listened to her surroundings. Familiar mono tone was talking with the annoying and whiny. She was lying down, but the bed didn't feel familiar. The sheets felt over starched and the blanket felt kind of itchy. There was an antiseptic smell that hung the air and she could hear the buzz of florescent lights over the two talking. There was a slow dull throb that began to resonate from her shoulder as she moved it slightly. And her head and back began to ache.

She opened her eyes slowly and gave off a slight groan. The lights were too bright and she was thirsty.

"Boss. Can you hear me?"

"Agent Lisbon, my name is Dr. Thompson. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

And then it faded. Good and warm were gone. Fuzzy and hazy remained. Reality came crashing down. Bits and pieces came back. She was too slow in drawing her gun, her shoulder exploding in pain as two shots hit her, sending her backwards into the coffee table. The dejected, pained look in Van Pelt's eyes as they rode the ambulance.

"How long have I been out?" Lisbon mumbled.

"Twelve hours."

"You are very lucky Ms. Lisbon, considering where you were hit..."

"How long before I can go back to work?" She interrupted while forcing herself to sit up. Cho caught her as she pitched to the right, almost falling out if bed.

"We'll keep you here overnight. Barring any complications, you can leave tomorrow afternoon, but you have to take it easy or I will keep you here longer. There will be some physical therapy to get a full range of motion back in your shoulder."

Doctor Thompson left the room, giving the two agents some privacy.

"Easy there Boss. You should rest. You were very lucky an inch in any direction and we would not be having this conversation. I would have probably been a pallbearer at your funeral."

"What aren't you telling me?" Lisbon asked.

"Nothing Boss, I just think you need to rest."

"Where is everyone?"

"Hightower is with Van Pelt. One of the doctors didn't think she looked to good and gave her a sedative."

"What about Rigsby and Jane?"

"Rigsby and Jane are at CBI headquarters. LaRoche's orders."

"Oh?"

LaRoche's orders? Rigsby was obligated to listen to LaRoche's orders. Jane was not. Well, he was, but he wouldn't.

Lisbon stared at her senior agent. After a few moments, Cho broke eye contact and ducked his head.

"Kimball, I know you're keeping something from me. I'm fine. I can handle it. What is it?"

"Jane shot and killed a man in the food court."

The world began to spin and she was nauseous.

Maybe she couldn't handle it.

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

Sorry that was a little on the short side... The next chapter is a little on the short side too...


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- blah blah blah. See previous chapters for a legit disclaimer. Besides what can you sue me for, I'm broke.

**[Chapter 5]**

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><p>"Did you hear? I think they're going to make a movie out of the whole thing."<p>

"What? Really? That's crazy."

Lisbon paid no mind to the two guards manning the metal detectors. She flashed her badge and they waved her through.

It had been three days since she woke up in the hospital. Four days since they had found the mole. And four days since she had seen Jane. She tried to stay at home, sleep mostly, but found herself going stir crazy.

She waited for the elevator lost in thought. The building was a buzz around her, but she didn't care. She ignored all the conversations around her.

Her brain was on auto pilot and Lisbon found herself by the holding cells.

The guard watched her cautiously as she approached Jane's cell.

"Hey Lisbon."

He said her name in a jovial tone, like this were a casual meeting, like they were in the bullpen and he had just brought donuts.

He put his arms through the bars and waved. Jane gave her a big grin, but she could see it didn't reach his eyes. Always the showman, he was performing for her.

"How's the shoulder? I'm glad you are okay, but shouldn't you be resting. You should rest. You look tired. I'll still be here later."

She wanted to reach out and hug him, hold him, and tell him it would be okay, for him and for herself and that it was finally over. Tell him how happy she was to see that he was physically unharmed, because she knew that emotionally was a different story.

"I'm fine by the way."

At the same time she wanted to punch him in the face. Scream at the top of her lungs. Tell him he was an idiot, a moron, and a fool.

"It's okay. I knew what I was getting into," he whispered in a serious tone, low enough for only her to hear.

He had that crazy look in his eyes and it had remained ever since they had left the hotel. Lisbon hated that look, feared it. She knew to watch him closer when he was like that. She should have been at the mall and left Cho at the ranch.

"Lisbon, I'm sorry," he whispered.

Lisbon tried to mask the hurt, the disappointment, and the guilt she felt. Mostly the disappointment and guilt she felt in herself. She knew what would happen if he got a hold of Red John. She knew Jane would kill him. He told her on several occasions.

She tuned heel and walked away. She couldn't do this.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled as she ran off from the holding cells.

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><p>He felt the hollowness inside reach greater depths as each emotion flitted across her face.<p>

The silence is what killed him the most. She didn't say a word to him, but the look on her face spoke volumes. He couldn't blame her.

Jane sat on his bunk and stared at a minuscule crack in the wall, forcing himself to focus on it and not reality.

He was so tired. This was supposed to be a release from the torment he felt.

"Are you going to tell me what I did was wrong?" He asked Cho who appeared in front of his cell door.

"No, I probably would have done the same thing in your shoes."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I brought you some books and a cup of tea that Rigsby made. I was done with the books anyway. You know, to pass the time. There's a Sudoku book in there, but I can't give you a pen. You understand."

"Thanks Cho."

"Was it worth it? Did you find peace?"

Cho waited for an answer. When he didn't receive one he left, leaving Jane to stare at the cracks in the facade.

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- ooooo naked Rigsby, yes I'm still on that. I saw the PETA ad. (see previous chapters for a legit disclaimer)

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><p><strong>[Chapter 6]<strong>

She was still in her office. Her shoulder throbbed, her head hurt and she was stiff and drowsy. It didn't help she fell asleep in an awkward position and now had a crick in her neck.

Lisbon tried not to think, but her mind kept circling back to one thing.

Jane. It was her job to protect him. She told him that. And she felt like she failed. Lisbon didn't protect him from the one person who would do him the most harm. She saw how self destructive he can be.

Lisbon saw through the mask, his demons consuming him, and yet, he had chosen to put a show on for her. She almost found it endearing. The endearing, pig headed, fool. It broke her heart when he whispered the apology.

She was going to make another attempt to talk with him and was going to do it now, before she lost her nerve.

Lisbon made it down the hall. There was a commotion, shouting, and angry yelling. She made it further down the corridor and listened as Gale Bertram and Osvaldo Ardiles arguing in LaRoche's office.

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><p>"He killed an unarmed man."<p>

"He did have a gun, a Smith and Wesson, an unlicensed Smith and Wesson. We are running ballistics on it now. The man was a serial killer with fourteen victims, one of which was a child."

"So you're saying it's okay if I shot a rapist in the back while he's locked up? Have we proved his identity? Do we know he's Red John? What happen to due process, court of law?"

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Ardiles. I have agents at his house right now digging up bodies."

"I don't know why your agency even let him on the case. He was too close to it."

"We kept him on the case because in an insightful genius who saw connections no one else saw."

"He's an unstable, arrogant lunatic with a death wish."

"The death wish part I might have to argue you with, but that lunatic closed cases. The Major Crimes Unit has a 90% close rate. That's the best in the state."

"Is that how you're justifying exploiting an unstable man's ability to pad your numbers?"

"Gentlemen, please, calm down…"

"We all agree what he did was wrong, but do we want waste tax payer's money on a trial, on the media circus? I don't think a jury would convict him. He killed a serial killer that murdered his family. That's justice. I know you have an issue with the MCU after that incident with Laurence Rome, but let it go. This was a win for the good guys. The media also doesn't seem to be interested in the fact that Jane shot him. They're hailing him as a hero who put down a psycho."

"That's all we need. Vigilantes going an eye for an eye…"

* * *

><p>"I see you've walked into the 'debate' the LaRoche, Bertram, and Ardiles are having."<p>

Lisbon jumped at the sight of Brenda Shettrick behind her.

"What happen?" Teresa asked.

"Haven't you seen the news?"

"No." Lisbon shook her head.

"The man Jane shot, his name is John Finkle. The gun that the found near the body, was processed, his finger prints were on the retaining pin, and they matched it to a murder in Arcata. Well, we got a warrant, and searched his house and found more evidence that there are more victims. The media caught wind of this and they are hailing Jane as a hero, which is better than rogue CBI consultant. A couple days ago they were painting him as a cold hearted monster."

Lisbon tried to process all the information she was told. She couldn't get past the media painting Jane as a cold hearted monster.

"Bailey and his team and several agents are still working the scene and most of the reporters are there. This is a windfall for us. It couldn't have worked out better."

Lisbon nodded as Brenda continued her recap.

"You should have heard them going at it two days ago. The only thing out of Osvaldo Ardiles mouth was death penalty. Mr. Jane is really lucky."

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><p>"He has yet to give a statement. I think he's suffering from PTSD. I've order a psych consult, to determine if he is fit for trial."<p>

"That's the first thing we've agreed on all day, that man needs help."

"I say we don't even need a trial. Mr. Jane said he's guilty and doesn't want a trial."

"I'm not letting go of the weapon's charge. He had an illegal gun."

"We need a statement, his side of the story. The media will want to know his side of the story. I can set up a press conference."

"Do you think that's wise? Have you seen him? It looks like he's barely keeping it together."

"He also won't talk to Bailey or Garrison, he just baits and talks circles around them."

"I'll have one of my other Agents get you one. He'll talk to Cho or Rigsby."

"I'll do it Sir." Lisbon spoke up from the doorway.

"You're supposed to be on administrative leave, Agent Lisbon. What are you doing here?" LaRoche asked.

"I was just looking for a change of scenery. I'll get you you're statement."

"I can't let you do that."

"Do you think he'll talk to anyone else?"

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

Omg. I hate my boss. He interrupt my fanfic writing by making me do work at work, lol.

Remember ignore my babbling...

Disclaimer- me no own, no money made.

* * *

><p>[<strong>Chapter 7]<strong>

"I know you aren't sleeping."

He listened to the familiar footfalls walk up to his cell door. His eyes remained shut, and Jane evened out his breathing. He even pretended to snore a bit.

"Jane, we need to talk." She tried again. "You're lucky my arm is in this sling, or I would throw my shoe at you. If you won't talk then, I will talk."

"Lisbon, I'm a little tired can you come back later," he broke his silence.

"No…"

"Okay, what's up?" He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bunk to face her.

"I feel like I failed you."

"You didn't fail me I knew what I was getting into. I told you what I was getting into."

"I was supposed to protect you."

"I'm not Whitney Houston and you're not Kevin Costner... No, uh wait..."

"Jane..."

"I don't need protecting."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'm not joking."

"How did you know?"

"A little birdie told me..."

"Jane, I'm serious."

"He told me he was Red John."

"And you took his word for it?"

Jane stood up and looked her in the eye and stated, "He knew intimate details only Red John would know."

"Like?"

"I told him his daughter smelt like strawberries and cream..."

The glint of the knife was the only thing he saw. Red John was behind her, and slit her throat in one fast, smooth motion.

Jane stood there unable to move as cast off and arterial splatter hit him in the face. His breathing grew shallow. His mind screamed for him to call for help, as Lisbon's blood pooled at his feet.

Red John dipped three of his kitchen gloved fingers in to the crimson puddle and drew a smiley for everyone who came through the door to see.

"Hey Patrick…" Red John grinned.

* * *

><p>"Hey Jane…"<p>

Jane woke up panting, gasping for air. He frantically scrubbed at his face and checked his hands to see if there was blood. There was nothing there. It was all a dream, all in his head.

"Jane! Are you okay? Breath…" Rigsby motioned for the guard to come closer and unlock the door.

"I'm fine. I just need a moment."

"Are you sure? You don't look too good." Rigsby waved the guard off after he opened the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine I just can't sleep. Insomnia."

"That looked like a panic attack to me. Maybe I should get you a doctor."

"No! I'm fine."

"I can get you something to drink, tea if you like. That always soothes you."

"No!"

"What's wrong with my tea?"

"Nothing, I'm just not thirsty."

"Lisbon asked me to bring you to interrogation."

"Yeah… Lisbon."

* * *

><p>"Jane."<p>

He looked up, not meeting Lisbon's eyes as he sat across from her. The nightmare still fresh in his mind, and he thought he could smell copper.

"You look horrible."

"I'm fine." He insisted. "It's just a little hot in my cell. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, just a little sore."

"Have they told you anything?" Lisbon asked scrutinizing every motion he made.

"Rigsby gave me the general gist of things. I'm glad Grace went to Iowa to see her family. It'll do her some good," Jane answered. "He hasn't told me about the case or the pending charges."

"His name was John Finkle. He lived about 65 miles north of here, in Nevada City."

His tormentor now had a name. John Finkle, it sounded so inconspicuous, non-threatening.

"Jane we need a statement, your side of the story."

"There is no my side of the story. I shot him and surrendered."

"How did you know he was Red John?"

"I just knew. What's there to say?"

"We need a written statement."

"I got my revenge. That's all I'm going to state."

"Stop being so stubborn, talk to me."

Jane stared at the flashing red lights on the surveillance camera. This was in an official capacity and it felt weird to him sitting on this side of the table, staring at his reflection in the two way mirror. They were investigating, interrogating. He didn't blame them for doing their job.

Jane just shook his head no.

"I have nothing more to officially say….."

"Rigsby, put him back in his cell," Lisbon called out to the agent behind the mirror.

* * *

><p>He had pictured him with horns. He had pictured with fangs.<p>

He now had a face and a name to the person who killed his family. His mind played it over again. He could see John Finkle with the knife, as he slowly ascended the stairs in his Malibu home. He could see John Finkle standing over his wife, taking a whiff, drawing in her scent, of coal-tar and lavender.

He'd imagine his daughter driving her tricycle though the house earlier that night, running, playing, causing her to sweat, shortly after Angela had given her a bath, with the shampoo he had bought her earlier that week, the one that smelt of fresh strawberries and cream.

He'd had gone over the files, read the autopsies, examined the crime scene photos, and read the reports. His mind imagined every move and motion that John Finkle made that fateful night. Each slice, each stab, and the pains taking detail he took to paint each of her toenails perfectly.

John Finkle drawing the smiley face, in his daughter's blood, with three kitchen gloved fingers.

Jane paced back and forth in the cell. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have peace.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**How's my driving? :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry this took so long. This chapter was finished days ago, but I like to be at least one chapter ahead before I post. Chapter 9 was not going very well, still really isn't, but working on it...**

**Thank you again to everyone who left a review, added an alert, or favorites the story.**

**Disclaimer- nope still don't own.**

* * *

><p>[<strong>Chapter 8]<strong>

"Hey Boss. I got you some coffee from the shop you really like, but I didn't know if caffeine and sugar would be good with any medications you're on, so I also got you a bottle of water. Do you want me to get you something to eat? You should rest. Is you're shoulder bothering you? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I'm fine, thanks Rigsby." She took the bottle of water and the coffee from him.

"It'll be okay Boss. It'll all work out somehow. You'll see." He gave her a hug, then a sheepish grin. "Can I get you anything else, Boss?"

"O-kay, Rigsby, can you go and put Jane in interrogation?"

"Yes Boss. Are you going to talk to him? I don't think he's been sleeping. I think he needs someone to talk to. I tried to talk to him, but he just stared off in to space," Rigsby blurted.

"Rigsby go..."

"Sure boss." Rigsby nodded and hurried off.

"He's been like that for the last couple days. Yesterday he showed up with big gulps and sandwiches, the day before it was tacos," Cho told her from his desk. "He even tried to make Jane tea. He tried to hug me, but I threatened to shoot him."

Everything felt like it was unraveling at the seams, first Jane's uncharacteristic silence and now Rigsby. She made mental note have a chat with Rigsby to make sure he was all right.

* * *

><p>She would to give him normalcy, case files and facts, to spark his interest, get him talking. Lisbon could see, he was a drift and she needed to anchor him, get him to focus before, he was gone.<p>

Lisbon knew he had waited for this moment, the death of Red John, yearned for it. It was like living in a drought, dying of thirst, and when the rain finally came, the torrential downpour flooded him, and washed his very being away.

There was nothing left. He was broken an battered, and she desperately tried to put the pieces together.

She would put the pieces together.

* * *

><p>"Bailey tells me you aren't eating. I've brought you some tea. It's from that shop like, Rigsby didn't make it this time. I also got you a strawberry croissant…"<p>

She smelt of strawberries and cream...

"Jane, this isn't over yet. We found new evidence in his house. There were more victims."

He stared down at the pastry and felt psychically ill.

"Jane he kept trophies, pictures of the crime scenes. Videos…"

It was an olfactory memory. His analytical mind told him so.

"The pictures suggest there are at least 10 more victims."

He could hear John Finkle's words taunting him, echoing in his mind.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

He stared at the pastry on the table, taking slow and metered breaths. Jane resisted the urge to throw the pastry across the room. That action might be seen as crazy. Jane told himself he was a bit unnerved, but not crazy. Crazy led to locked padded rooms, with feelings of pity, shame, and disgrace.

"What about the other families. Don't they need closure too?"

He would not breakdown, not in front of her and not on camera for the whole world to see.

"And there might be more. We don't know if any of his associates have kept any of the victims hostage, like Dumar tried with Maya?"

Everything was fine. He could pretend that everything was fine. He had done so for years, but he couldn't bring himself to say more than two words to her, to look her in the eye. She was disappointed in him, Jane knew that, and when he looked at her all he saw was the glint of the knife, just above the cross she always wore.

"And we still haven't found the connection between O'Laughlin and Red John. We know they were working together, but not the why. Grace needs closure too."

It was all okay. This is what he had wanted for all these years. Jane did it for them. He repeated to himself like a mantra. He did it for them. Willing himself to believe it.

"Jane please… say something."

He could control his body functions. Regulate heart rate, and blood pressure, a biometric feedback trick, he had done so before. He just needed to focus. Why was it so hard to focus? He glared at the pasty willing it to disappear.

"Jane, you don't look well. I'm going take you to the hospital, get you checked out."

Lisbon looked at the pastry. She had been watching him ever since they sat down, and the only thing he did was stare at the croissant, his tea was tepid and forgotten.

"Are you okay? You can eat it, I brought it for you..."

"I'm fine!" He snapped, trying more to convince himself.

Lisbon put her hand over the mic and whispered, "Do you want me to call Sophie Miller? Is that what you want?"

"No. It just feels hollow…"

"What feels hollow?"

"Everything…"

"Everything?"

"You wanted to know how I felt?"

"I've been saying that for days. Jane, please let me in."

"Is this in an official capacity?"

"What?"

"Do you want to know how I feel in an official capacity? Is this for the record? Is this part of my competency hearing?"

"What?"

"Is this for my competency hearing Agent Lisbon? Garrison tells me I see the court appointed psychiatrist tomorrow. Is this for the official report?"

"I just want to know the truth to what happened, I want to know if you are okay..."

"Darth Vader is Luke's father."

Darth Vader is Luke's father. He confided his secret to her. How could she be so stupid. Lisbon met his eyes and could see the shame he tried to hide.

"Oh crap..." she whispered.

* * *

><p>He told her he was on the verge of having a break down. His last statement was code, Jane speak, an off hand comment he had made when she was furious at, about a case he had asked her to take as a favor. The case where he helped his former psychiatrist, Sophie Miller. 'Darth Vader? Luke's father'. That was the day he let her in, behind the mask and the act. The day Jane told her about his undocumented stay in a locked room at a mental institution.<p>

He had that same shamed look in his eyes, and Lisbon appreciated his honesty, even if she was the only one who understood.

Jane was reaching out to her.

Jane was asking for her help.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer- me no own, no money made.**

* * *

><p><strong>[Chapter 9]<strong>

Lisbon grabbed Jane's arm and pulled him out of interrogation.

"Lisbon, hey where are you going with my suspect? You're suppose to be getting a statement out of him." Garrison stormed out of the observation room. He grabbed Jane's other arm and tried to pull him away.

"I am your prisoner. If I was a suspect, you only suspect me of doing something. I already admit that I did it, any simpleton would know that," Jane said. He pulled away and stood next to Lisbon.

"Jane, shut up. You are a suspect. You haven't been convicted. You are a prisoner, if you've been convicted." Lisbon grabbed his arm again and led him towards the bullpen.

"Pshhh. Semantics..." Jane scoffed.

"Where are you taking him?" Garrison stomped behind them.

"To my office," Lisbon answered.

"Oh, Lisbon I didn't know you cared like that." Jane quipped.

"Jane, shut up," Lisbon scolded.

"You can't do that Agent Lisbon," Garrison said.

"Are you going to stop me?" Lisbon challenged.

"You bet I will," Garrison fumed.

Cho and Rigsby rose from their desks and positioned themselves between Garrison and Lisbon.

"We might have a problem with that," Cho said.

"Great now you've got Bert and Ernie on me."

"Whoa, whoa, what's going on here?" Agent Bailey came out of his office and stepped between Lisbon's team and his agent.

"They took my prisoner out of interrogation. Wanted to talk to him. Who knows what they will do."

"So, let them talk," Bailey said.

"But Sir?" Garrison questioned.

"What? Do you think she'll let him go? Help him escape? Agent Lisbon is a Senior Agent. A sworn officer of the law. Just like us." Bailey explained.

"She not even her in an official capacity," Garrison said.

"So what. Leave them be. If someone will get the truth about what happen at the mall, it will be her." Bailey grabbed Garrison and pushed him through his office door. "Come on, we have more evidence to go through."

Bailey turned to Lisbon and grinned. "I apologize for my junior agent. He still learning the politics of this place. Just put Mr. Jane back in his cell when you're done talking."

"Thanks James." Lisbon nodded.

"Oh and Lisbon... Smack him in the head for me. That was really stupid what he did." Bailey motioned towards Jane.

"Trust me I will." Lisbon smiled.

"You're not really going to hit me are you Lisbon? I'm a cuffed prisoner."

"Get in there..." Lisbon shoved Jane into her office.

There was a crowd forming in front of her office. The commotion with Garrison had attracted spectators. Lisbon shut the door, and closed all the blinds, then sank into her chair. This day was exhausting, and it didn't help that she was barely getting any sleep. She closed her eyes for a few minutes to collect her thoughts and regroup.

Jane paced back and forth for a bit, then picked up a chair and slammed it to the floor.

"OH MY GOD LISBON THAT FEELS SO GOOD!"

"What are you doing!" She opened her eyes and glared at him.

"It's not what I'm doing, it what they are thinking out there..." Jane grinned.

Lisbon peeked through the blinds. The crowd was still there, some had shocked looks on their face, others were murmuring to each other, while others snickered.

She smacked him hard with her good arm and dragged him out of her office and towards the loft, away from prying eyes and thin cubicle walls.

Rigsby and Cho followed behind her.

"We'll wait here, Boss, right Rigs."

"Yup, this looks like a good spot to hang out." Rigsby sat in the middle of the staircase, the only way to and from the loft, while Cho leaned on the railing.

"Thanks guys," Lisbon nodded. She led Jane inside and shut the door.

* * *

><p>"Your action in the food court, the lack of eating, and the lack of guilt from you, make you seem a little crazy. Rigsby also said you were also having panic attacks." Her statement was blunt. Lisbon was going to have this out now, whether Jane liked it or not.<p>

While Bailey was fine with this meeting, Lisbon didn't know if La Roche would be. He was always so by the book and this was a bit unorthodox. She didn't know how much time they had, but was sure that Rigsby and Cho would give her ample warning if anything came up.

"But I do feel guilty," Jane said.

"About killing him?"

"No not that all. That was justice." Jane began pacing back and forth. "I feel guilty about getting my family killed..."

"We all knew that..."

"Woman, stop interrupting."

"You don't have to put on a show for me. You seemed almost catatonic in interrogation."

"I was preoccupied."

"By what?"

"The damn pastry!"

"You should have just eaten it! I bought if for you. I was worry about you. You don't take care of yourself... I know you haven't been eating."

"No that's not it..."

"Jane?"

Jane paced the perimeter of the room. He had to make sure they were alone, the last time they had this conversation, Red John killed Lisbon. Even though it was a dream, it felt real to him, and he didn't want to admit he was having a slight issue determining the difference between reality and dream.

"Jane," she said softer, trying to coax him to talk.

"I'm fine with prison, but not a locked room with white padded walls. I'm not insane or the end of my rope, but I don't know if I can handle being locked in an institution. Not again."

Lisbon grabbed him and sat him down on his makeshift bed.

"I will make sure they won't lock you in an institution."

"Okay. Do you promise?"

"I promise to do everything in my power that you do not get locked in an institution. Jane, what happen in the food court? The truth."

He looked for the sincerity in her eyes. She was the only person who was always in his corner, even if he tried to annoy and push her away.

"I had a conversation with Red John. He told me he was going to retire, and disappear."

"So you shot him?"

"No, I didn't believe that he was Red John originally."

"So why did you shoot him? Where did you even get a gun?"

"It was a present from a friend, someone who knew how it felt to have a loved one take from them like I had mine taken from me."

"What did Red John say to you?"

"Angela occasionally suffered from mild psoriasis and used coal tar soap to treat this. She use to pick up this soap from a little boutique on Rodeo. It was an authentic and hand made soap, by a little company in Delaware. I was there shopping for them a week before they died. I found the most heavenly shampoo there, I bought it for Charlotte, she absolutely loved it, tried to use it as body wash..." Jane frowned, Red John had corrupted that memory for him.

Lisbon took a seat next next to him and waited for him to finish his story. This was the first time she had seen him speak so candidly about his family.

"So, when Finkle told me about the night he killed them, he told me about coal tar and strawberries. I knew it was him. He was Red John..."

Jane fished his journal from it spot underneath the pillow. He scribbled something onto the page last page, ripped it out and handed it to Lisbon.

"Then I shot him three times at point blank range..."

* * *

><p>Rigsby hummed to himself, while Cho sat there and played with his phone. They sat there for ten minutes before Rigsby broke the silence.<p>

"What do you think they're doing in there?"

"Talking I suppose."

"What do you think happened in the food court?"

"I don't know. Did you see the surveillance video?"

"No. Did you?"

"Yeah. He just walked up to him and shot him..."

"The gun?"

"Ballistics came back, the gun is unlicensed and the serial number is being traced back to a gun show in Santa Fe, the buyer paid cash."

"Agents, where are they?" La Roche interrupted the two agents who sat in the middle of the staircase.

"They?" Rigsby asked innocently.

The pair moved from the middle of the staircase as their boss stomped up the stairs.

"Wait." Cho slammed into the door hard as he grabbed for the handle, hoping that was enough of a warning for the two inside in whatever they were doing.

"Agent move, or I will suspend you for insubordination," La Roche threatened.

The two moved and let La Roche slide the door open.

"Agent Lisbon what are you doing?" La Roche asked. "Mr. Jane should be in his cell."

"I'm sorry Sir."

"Don't blame her, La Roche. She just wanted to talk to someone about getting shot. This was the only place were we could get some privacy."

"It's like a switch..." Lisbon said amazed how fast Jane could switch gears and mask his emotions.

"I've had plenty of practice." Jane grinned. "It's okay J.J. I was just heading back to my cell. Lisbon has my official written statement. Come on boys, lead the suspect back to his holding cell, but can we stop in the kitchen for some tea?"

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer- Still don't own.**

**[Chapter 10]**

* * *

><p>Lisbon walked down the narrow corridor and put her good arm through the cell bars.<p>

"I know you aren't sleeping..."

Jane quickly jumped off his bunk and began pacing. The last time the conversation started like this he ended up standing in a pool of her blood. It had been days since he had slept, and Jane wasn't quite sure if he dozed off.

He still felt off centered and off balanced. The symphony in his head was at dissonance. His drummer was offbeat and the strings were out of tune. All his attempts at self hypnosis and meditation failed. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Finkle's face and the cursed red smiley.

"Jane?"

Jane grabbed her hand and held it there. It was warm and kind of clammy. He felt her pulse beat. Rhythmic. Hypnotic. Soothing. Like a metronome slowly bringing all the melodies and harmonies back into synch. An anchor, a beacon of light that pulsed through the cloudiness of his mind. A tether, that tried to pulled him from the ledge as it slowly crumbled.

"Jane are you okay?"

"Shhhh..."

"You better not better not try to hypnotize me or anything like that."

"Shhhh."

Jane focused on the beat. This would not break him. This was just another demon for his closet. He told himself time would heal all wounds and other platitudes. What Lisbon told the victims families, and he wondered if anyone truly believed it. This would not break him. He was a survivor.

"Jane."

He let go of her hand and let out a deep breath. Everything was not fine, but good enough. Jane could deal with good enough.

"Lisbon can you do me a favor and stand next to the wall, so I can keep an eye on the door?" Jane politely asked.

"Why?"

"Please, just do it."

"Are you okay? It's just us in here. I told Wilson to go get coffee, so we can have some privacy."

"Please," Jane pleaded with her.

"Jane what is it?"

"It was just I had a dream we had this same conversation."

"And how did it turn out?"

Jane turned away and looked at the floor. He forced that memory out of his head. He tried to thing of anything else. Charlotte's first steps, the first time he set eyes on Angela, the time he took 35 cents from Cho.

"Oh, that bad? What did I say?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Lisbon prodded. "This isn't in an official capacity. You see I have this friend, did something stupid, and I just want to know if he's all right, because he goes off and does these foolish and reckless things without thinking of the consequences. I need to know if he's doing okay, even though I am still mad at him. And his other friends are mad at him, but are more concerned with his welfare, but he's to selfish and stubborn to see how his actions might affect others..."

"What friend might that be?"

"Jane, I am responsible for you and this unit. I feel like I've failed you guys. You especially. Van Pelt left and I don't know when she's coming back. Rigsby is acting strange..."

"I hypnotized him."

"What? You are going to undo it!"

"No, it wasn't anything bad, like convincing a smoker that they only smoke out of habit. He was blaming himself for the whole Grace/O'Laughlin thing and that he should have seen it sooner. I told him it wasn't his fault and he should take care if the team."

"He tried to hug Cho."

"Oh. That's an unforeseen circumstance. Maybe I should have went with singing like Tina Turner."

"That would be a sight."

They both laughed.

"I'm okay with the fact that it turned out like this. If the team was there, I would have had to go through you guys, and I wasn't looking forward to doing that. It would have ended badly," Jane said.

"I would have stopped you."

"You would have tried. Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry O'Laughlin shot you. I should have realized he was the mole sooner."

"I have pain killers for that pain," Lisbon sighed. "You already know what you are going to tell the shrink?"

"I was debating on the Johnny Cash story again, but he probably read my file."

"Why don't you tell the truth?"

" 'We all go a little mad sometimes?' "

"Uh, no, Norman not that..."

"I don't know the next time we'll get to talk..."

"I'll be at the arraignment tomorrow. So will Rigsby and Cho."

"Just tell the them thanks."

"Oh, and Jane..."

"Yes, Lisbon?"

" 'He told me details only someone who killed my family would know. Finkle was armed, but had the gun in the newspaper. He was going to leave change his identity, and never return. I could not let that happen. I shot him three times while he stood mere inches from me. I got my revenge.' "

"That is my official statement."

"I will not accept that," Lisbon said.

"Are you my editor? That's what happened."

"You will rewrite it."

"No."

"You will rewrite it. I've already burned that piece of paper you gave me."

"Why would you do that?"

"You were carrying the gun, even though illegal and stupid, you feared for your safety. Finkle threatened to shoot you and others in the food court. That's when you shot him three times and surrendered."

"It's a lie."

"What does it matter. You lie all the time. Only you and Finkle know what really happened and he is dead. I've read all the witness statements, no one could hear your conversation over the busy food court. You talk about justice all the time. Is it justice that you go to jail for shooting an armed suspect, a serial killer?"

"You always talk about the law. Is it okay if I commit perjury? Get away with murder?"

They were at a stalemate, neither of them wanted to concede.

The two glared at each other for a few minutes.

"I should go. You need to try and get some rest. If you see the shrink the way you are now, there might be a problem," Lisbon said.

"What's wrong with the way I look?"

"Orange doesn't suit you."

"Thanks Lisbon for you know... uh, good night."

"Goodnight Jane."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**You guys would tell me if I'm OOC right? That's the one thing that would bother me the most. **

**I rewrote this chapter 4 times and I want to bang my head on the desk.**

**I feel like I'm on a three hour drive to the amusement park, I know where I want to go, but the highway is closed and I need to detour, but some of the street signs are missing. And what aggravating is that I can see the roller coaster...**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer- Nope, still not mine.**

**[Chapter 11]**

* * *

><p>Jane was startled awake by something landing on him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a legal pad sitting on his chest, with Lisbon's scowling form standing over him.<p>

"You will rewrite it." She threw a pen at him.

"Good morning to you too, Lisbon."

Jane frowned. Lisbon looked horrible, like she hadn't slept at all. Jane sat up and scooted over and motioned for her to sit down next to him.

"You look horrible..."

"You see I have this friend, I spent all night worrying about him..."

"I know. He's an irrational idiot."

"Please, Jane, statement..."

"I'll make you a deal. I'll write a statement, but you need to go home and get some rest."

"Sure. I'll take a nap in my office." She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Lisbon felt his body shift slightly as he began scribbling words down onto the paper.

Jane finished writing and let off a sigh. He closed his eyes and began to drift off as he leaned on Lisbon.

"Ahem. Sorry," Bailey apologized. "I'm here to take Mr. Jane to court."

"I was just finishing my statement." Jane said as he attempted to hand the paper back to Lisbon, but Bailey grabbed the pad.

"Interesting." Bailey said as he read the statement. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up and to court."

"See you later Lisbon." Jane smiled. "Remember, you promised to rest."

* * *

><p>Agent William Garrison was bored. He had just finished his crossword puzzle and was doodling in the newspaper's margins. Waiting was the worst. His boss ordered him to babysit Jane as they waited for the court appointed shrink.<p>

Garrison mindlessly clicked his pen open and closed. He wished he was in the field, digging and searching through Finkle's property. Garrison had a forensic background. He was more than qualified, but, he was also the junior agent on the team, bottom of the food chain, plus his boss still might be annoyed with him after that indecent in the bullpen.

Garrison let out a frustrated sigh and kept clicking the pen. He wanted to help people and not get caught up in politics. His senior agent explained to him several times it was all part of the job.

"You know they say that nervous habit is a sign of sexual frustration," Jane said interrupting his thoughts.

"I'm not listening to you," Garrison glared.

"You have to be listening to me if you responded to me."

"How do they put up with you?" Garrison mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"You obviously said something," Jane said. He waited a few moments for a response, when he did not receive one he mumbled, "... weakness in character..."

"What did you say?" Garrison snapped.

"Nothing."

"No, you said something."

"Are you okay? You look a little tired. You need to relax," Jane calmly answered.

"I'm fine."

"Auditory hallucination are common in someone who is overstressed and overworked. You need to take a breath and relax," Jane answered in a steady even tone.

"I'm fine."

"Take a deep breath..." Jane took a deep breath. "... and relax..."

"I'm fine." Garrison stated, but subconsciously followed Jane's instructions.

"Relax..."

"You're up to something."

"Why are you so suspicious?" Jane took a couple of deep breaths and motioned for Garrison to follow. " I'm not doing anything. I'm just telling you to relax."

"Yeah, right." Garrison continued to follow.

"How can I be doing anything? I'm still cuffed. I just want you to take a breath and relax..."

"Yeah... Relax..." Garrison nodded. He felt at ease as his mind drifted. Garrison smiled. Thoughts of his girlfriend came to mind. Thoughts of warm sheets, and her body snuggled against his as he listened to her snore softly. He'd doze off, and would wake up to find she had already made breakfast for him and it was waiting on the kitchen table, complete with coffee and the paper.

"Look, why don't I get you a cup of coffee? Doesn't that sound good? You sit here and relax."

"Yeah, coffee... that sounds good."

"Good, take a load off and relax."

"Yeah... Relax."

"You mind uncuffing me for a minute? I can't hold two cups if my hands are bound like this. Don't worry I'll be be back. You just sit here and relax."

"Yeah..." Garrison obliged.

"I'll be right back. Just sit here and relax." Jane handed Garrison the handcuffs and smiled. "Remember, relax..."

"Mr. Jane where are you going?" The Doctor stepped out of his office to greet the two. "Agent?"

Garrison snapped back to reality and cuffed Jane.

"Agent, you can wait here. Mr. Jane my name is Dr. Ross."

* * *

><p>His escape plan almost worked. Jane didn't actually think the entire plan through, and wasn't quite sure where he was going to go once he got away from Garrison. The bright orange jumpsuit was a dead tip off that he shouldn't be allowed near any of the exits.<p>

His brain told him that it was a flight response. He didn't really want to talk to the shrink and if he were going insane, that was between him and his mind. Besides, he wanted control. He would try and deal with this on his own terms, his own way. Maybe try and get a hold of Sophie. Lisbon would help him with that.

Jane took a seat in front of the doctor's desk, mask firmly in place. It was a modest office with books everywhere and the desk was cluttered with stacks and stacks of files.

"Good morning, Mr. Jane"

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Please sit."

"Sure."

"How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine, actually, I don't know why I'm here."

"Why do you say that?"

"The job of a forensic psychiatrist is to find if the defendant was on there right mind when they committed the crime."

"Yes."

"At the time of the crime, I was lucid and aware of my actions."

"Lucid and aware is an interesting choice of words."

"They are just words. I'm sure you have a battery of questions that you have to ask. So, doctor fire away."

"Okay. Your written statement claims it was self defense."

"Not going to ask me my name, occupation, the date, about my mother and things like that?"

"I could ask you those things, but that would be a waste of both of our time," Dr. Ross stated. "Why were you carrying a gun?"

"For protection."

"How long were you carrying the gun?"

"I usually leave it in my desk at CBI or in the abandoned storage loft on the fourth floor."

"Why did you feel compelled to bring it that day?"

"It was a Red John case."

"You brought it to avenge your family?"

"No, I brought it for protection," Jane insisted. "Red John seems to have a fascination with me. I brought it for my own safety."

"Hmmm."

"Hmmm?"

"Do you have difficulty concentrating of focusing?"

"Nope."

"Hmmm... Have a heightened awareness of potential dangers?"

"I worked in law enforcement there's always the potential for danger. Heightened awareness is why I was hired."

"Jumpy or startled by something unexpected?"

"No more than usual."

"Hmmm... Have difficulty sleeping or staying asleep?"

"Yes, I've been having trouble sleeping." Jane motioned towards the pad sitting on the doctor's lap. "What are you writing there?"

"Just some notes."

"What do they say?"

"Just my observations. Why did it take you so long to give a written statement?"

"It was a lot to process. First I'm branded a murder, then a hero, up for murder, reduced to a gun charge. I know I'm looking at a least one to three years. I'm pleading guilty you know."

"Can we talk about your family?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to the case."

"I think it's relevant. You did kill the alleged murderer of your family. How did it make you feel."

Jane looked the doctor in the eye and said, "It gave me closure and peace."

* * *

><p>"Whatever the charges are your honor. I plead guilty. I do not want to waste the time and resources of this court." Jane stood from his seat in the court room.<p>

"As your lawyer, I am advising you not to do so."

Jane spun around and looked at the man who entered the room. "Your Honor, I do not know who this man is. I am choosing to represent myself in this case."

"Who are you?" The Judge asked the man who just entered.

"I'm Mr. Jane's new counsel. Your Honor, may I have a word with my client?"

"You have five minutes."

Jane turned to Rigsby, Cho and Lisbon. "Which one of you hired a lawyer?"

"Mr. Jane, my name is Sawyer. I was hired by a concerned party," Jane's lawyer stated.

"Who hired you?"

" ' He who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client.' " Sawyer said

"Guys?" Jane turned to Rigsby and Cho.

"Nope." Cho answered. "He looks too expensive for me."

"Uh uh. I thought about it though, even tried to collect a pool. I only wound up with three hundred bucks. We're coming up on the first of the month." Rigsby shrugged.

"Did you hire me a lawyer Lisbon? I already refused the court appointed attorney," Jane said.

"Yes I did. Remember the last time you decided to defend yourself? You wound up with a $16,000 court fine," Lisbon reminded him.

"I don't want a lawyer."

"You're getting a lawyer. He's all paid for and your keeping him."

"If I might interject..." Jane's lawyer interrupted.

"No!" Lisbon and Jane both snapped.

"You paid a lawyer to defend me. I didn't know you cared that much."

Lisbon smacked him hard. Jane rubbed his arm as Lisbon continued to scold him. "How many times do I have to tell you we care. Besides, I didn't pay for the lawyer, uh, Mashburn did. It didn't take much to convince him. He also see you as his friend. How many times do I have to tell you that there are people who care for you."

"Hmmm."

"You're keeping the lawyer."

"Counsel, if we may proceeded," The Judge projected over the hushed arguing.

"Sincerest apologies, you honor. I just wanted to make sure the defendant knew the charges against him."

"We will go over all that. I will not tolerate any more delays."

"Yes, your honor."

Jane stared at the ceiling. His lawyer, the prosecutor, and The Judge went into some legal mumbo jumbo and he let his mind drift and began to count the ceiling tiles. Just cogs in the system, he told himself.

"What happened to the murder charge?" Lisbon whispered to Jane.

"What you want it back?" Jane whispered back.

"No. Just curious."

"Ardiles took it off the table after I submitted my statement. I stopped a serial killer from shooting people at the mall."

"I see."

"Yeah. Well, you see what had happen was... "

"Please don't tell me you started your statement like that."

"What if I did...?"

"Mr. Jane are we boring you?" The Judge interrupted.

"No, your Honor. Sorry. I was just asking a legal question to Lisbon."

"Do you plead guilty to the weapon's charge."

Jane looked at his lawyer who nodded.

"Yes, your Honor, I do."

"Very well. Sentencing is set for next Tuesday. Bail is set for $20,000 dollars."

"Your Honor, my client was working as a civil servant and is hardly a flight risk. I ask that he be released on his own recognizance," Sawyer argued.

"Fine. Bail is set for $10,000. Does the prosecution agree?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Good. See you all next Tuesday."

* * *

><p>Lisbon flopped down on her couch and closed her eyes. She had just dropped Jane off at the supermarket near his motel room and had offered to stay with him for a bit, but Jane declined. He insisted that she keep her promise from this morning and get some rest and that he would call her in the morning.<p>

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table and she chose to ignore it. The pain killers she took were finally kicking in and she was getting drowsy.

The phone vibrated again and again. Lisbon glanced at the display and reached over to grab the phone.

"Yeah Rigsby..."

"Boss! I don't know what to do. He isn't talking. He's just sitting on the floor shaking. I slowed the bleeding... He's holding a paper, but won't give it to me. I told him I was going to call for help, he kept saying no. No hospitals. No more locked rooms. The look in his eyes...And then..."

"Rigs, slow down. What happen?"

"I was just checking up on him. I brought pizza and beer. Cho was suppose to meet us here after he finished some paperwork back at the office. I called an ambulance. I know he hates hospitals, he says he doesn't want one... but this is bad. I..."

"Rigs, where are you?"

"I'm at Jane's..."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

* * *

><p>"Just get sandwiches."<p>

"But, we had sandwiches for lunch."

"Then get pizza, just no pineapple."

"But, Jane likes pineapple."

"Get two pies."

"That's a lot of pizza."

"You said you were hungry."

"But... that's a lot of pizza."

"I don't want pineapple."

"But, Jane likes pineapple."

"Fruit on pizza is just unnatural."

"Tomato is a fruit."

"No, it's isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't."

"Look it up, and if I'm right, there's pineapple on the pizza."

"Fine."

Cho hit a few keystrokes on his keyboard and waited for Google to give him an answer.

"Damn."

"Ha!"

"Why don't you guys just get pineapple on half the pie?" Agent Bailey offered as a solution to their dilemma as he walked by.

"That would be too easy," Rigsby laughed.

"Yeah," Cho answered.

The Lead Agent shook his head and kept walking.

"Let's get the pies. You're right, I am hungry." Rigsby grabbed his jacket. "Come on, leave the paperwork, it's Friday, it'll still be here on Monday."

"This is mostly the boss' paperwork."

"Do you need help?"

"No, I'm almost done. Just go and get the pizza. I'll meet you there."

"Alright, alright, I'm going."

* * *

><p>Rigsby knocked on the door with his foot, his hands otherwise occupied with two pizzas and a twelve pack of Guinness. He was here for their surprise, impromptu Jane is out of jail celebration and was trying his best not to drop the main course.<p>

"Hey, Jane, I brought food," Rigsby yelled as kicked the door a little harder. "Jane!"

Rigsby heard a cry, then and a crash from inside. He put the beer onto the floor and placed the pizzas on and pulled out his service piece. The door was locked, but he easily forced it open by slamming his shoulder into it.

"Jane?"

He did a quick sweep of the room and found the only light in the motel room was coming from bathroom, the door slightly ajar.

"Jane, I'm coming in..."

Rigsby looked around small the room. Jane stood by the sink staring at the mirror, shaking slightly and there were eight by ten glossies everywhere, each were taped to various things like the sliding glass shower door, various walls, the towel rack, even the ceiling.

"What the hell..." Rigsby looked at the mirror. There was a Red John smiley staring back at them. Jane had smashed it right between the eyes. It looked like it took a bullet to the head as Jane's blood trickled down from the broken glass.

Rigsby glanced at the pictures. They were of Jane and his family.

Jane at the stable with his wife and daughter horseback riding.

Jane and his wife shopping for curtains and housewares.

Jane and his daughter building sand castles in the early evening.

Jane sleeping in a hammock with his daughter curled under his arm.

Jane sitting in the Citroen with Charlotte and Angela.

It looked as though someone had been stalking Jane for weeks, judging from the various lengths of Charlotte's hair.

"Jane. Your bleeding..." Rigsby said as he holstered his weapon.

Jane did not acknowledge his presence. His fist were balled up. One hand was bleeding pretty badly, Rigsby presumed it was the one he decided to put through the mirror. In Jane's other hand he clutched a piece of paper.

Rigsby grabbed a hand towel and carefully wrapped it around Jane's bleeding hand and was met by minimal resistance.

"Jane, come on." Rigsby put a hand on Jane's shoulder and tried to lead him away from the bathroom.

"Leave me alone." Jane pushed him away, and turned back towards the mirror.

Rigsby took a reflexive step back. The look he saw in his friends eyes was of raw anger and fury. He had seen that look in the eyes of one other person, his father when he was on a bender.

"Jane," Rigsby tried in a soft calm voice. "Someone is messing with you man. Red John is dead."

"No..."

"What's that paper say?"

"No!"

"Jane, calm down please. We'll get this the bottom of this. I'm going to call the team. First we got to make sure your okay..."

Jane raised his hands and it looked like he was going to put his hand through the mirror again. Rigsby had to act. He bear hugged him and forced Jane out off the bathroom.

"Jane, please stop!"

They struggled for a bit, until Rigsby tossed him onto the full size mattress in the middle of the room.

"This is Agent Rigsby. I need an ambulance at the Extended Stay Inn..."

"No!" Jane shot up from the bed and tried to grab for Rigsby phone. "No hospitals! No more locked rooms! No ambulance! I'm fine. Leave me alone!"

Rigsby's training kicked in and he forcefully pushed Jane away.

Jane slammed into an adjacent wall and slid down to a sitting position and began to shake, but made no attempt to grab the phone from Rigsby.

"Damn! Sorry Jane." Rigsby apologized. "I didn't mean to hurt you..."

This was getting out of hand and Rigsby knew he had to take control of the situation. Rigsby was out of his element here. He dialed the one person he knew who could get through to Jane. He kept dialing until he got a response.

"Boss! I don't know what to do. He isn't talking. He's just sitting on the floor shaking. I slowed the bleeding... He's holding a paper, but won't give it to me. I told him I was going to call for help, he kept saying no. No hospitals. No more locked rooms. The look in his eyes...And then..."

Rigsby began to pace. He glanced over towards Jane who now just rocked back and forth.

"Rigs, slow down. What happen?" Lisbon asked.

"I was just checking up on him. I brought pizza and beer. Cho was suppose to meet us here after he finished some paperwork back at the office. I called an ambulance. I know he hates hospitals, he says he doesn't want one... but this is bad. I..."

"Rigs, where are you?" Lisbon cut him off.

"I'm at Jane's..."

Rigsby was on the other side of the room when Jane decide to make a break for the front door.

"Dammit Jane! Wait."

Jane took off running. Rigsby followed, but tripped over the pizza and the case of Guinness on his way through the door. He fell flat on his face and skinned his hands as he tried to break his fall, his cell phone skidded down the concrete path.

Rigsby forced himself up, grabbed his phone and hobbled down the stairs. He finally made it to street level, but completely lost sight of the consultant.

He needed to call this in.

He needed backup.

When he looked down at his cell phone, the screen was cracked and it wouldn't power on. Rigsby threw the phone to the ground and limped his way back towards Jane's room. Once inside he called Cho and told him to come down now with Bailey and his team.

Rigsby took a seat on the bed and rested his head against the headboard and closed his eyes a few moments, trying not to let his frustration overwhelm him. He counted backwards from twenty, which seemed to soothe the throbbing in his leg. After opening his eyes he glanced down at the paper that Jane clutched so tightly earlier.

Rigsby picked up the paper. It read-

_Dear Patrick,_

_I was sorry to hear that your friends killed Craig, he was good to me. Give Grace my condolences._

_Finkle was there, but he stood and watched as I worked. The coward was to scared to participate._

_Bravo, for killing him._

_I knew you had it in you._

_Your friend,_

_- "Red John"_

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

You guys still with me? Cool. First off thank you to everyone who left a review or story alerted this story.

* * *

><p><strong>[Chapter 13]<strong>

* * *

><p>"You okay?" Cho asked as he climbed out of Bailey's car.<p>

"Yeah, I'm fine. My own stupidity, just landed a little funny. I lost Jane. Need to find him." Rigsby pushed the note, now in an evidence bag, into Cho's hands and continued to limp towards his car with determination. "404, in the bathroom."

Once in his car, he reached under the driver's seat and pulled his laptop. He put in a few keystrokes and laughed.

"Yes! Thank you GPS."

Jane had his phone in his pocket and was a few blocks down heading westward.

Rigsby threw the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space. He spotted Lisbon who had just arrived at the scene. She had just gotten out of her car when he pulled up next to her.

"Boss get in," Rigsby flung the passenger door open. "I lost him, but I got a GPS fix."

Rigsby absently rubbed his throbbing knee as he sped down the street. The lights and sirens were off. He didn't want to spook Jane, but if Red John was involved, he wanted to find him quickly.

"What happen?" Lisbon asked. She watched her agent . Judging from the look on his face, this would not be good at all. The week's events were beginning to take their toll. The mole, the mall, the bullets, jail, court, were wearing her thin. She learned a long time ago to roll with the punches, but the beating was getting a little hard to take.

"Cho and I decided to have an Jane got out of jail party. I got to his apartment and I found Jane in the bathroom. He was a little freaked out there was- wait, there he is!"

* * *

><p>It reminded Lisbon of one of those old zombie movies. Jane shuffled along the street without his shoes. His hair was out of place, his dress shirt was half tucked in, and his pants were soiled with dirt and grass. He stared out into the distance, and continued on to an unknown destination. Wandering. Lost.<p>

Lisbon hopped out of the car and grabbed his arm to stop his gait. He stared blankly past her, no recognition in his eyes.

"Look at me," she ordered.

Jane tried to pull away, but Lisbon refused to let go. There was a crowd forming around them. They had stopped in front of a laundry mat, with bored people, who wanted to see what the commotion was.

Curious murmurs rippled through the crowd that formed around him.

_"Its the consultant guy..."_

_"It figures he's out. If I shot someone at the mall I'd be locked up..."_

_"He killed that guy..."_

_"Call channel 13. I wanna be on tv..." _

_"The CGI dude. Isn't he dangerous?" _

_"Didn't he use to be psychic?"_

"Jane look at me." Lisbon grabbed his face and their eyes locked. She ignored the gathering. They were unimportant. Her agent would handle that.

Lisbon tried to grab his arm as his knees buckled. They both unceremoniously fell to the ground. She pulled her arm out of the sling and tossed it aside.

"You're okay. I'm right here."

Lisbon grabbed both of Jane's shoulders and tried to get get his attention.

"Jane! Look at me."

Jane broke away from Lisbon's grip and began to rock back and forth.

"Jane! Look at me! Your going into shock. Call an ambulance!"

His breathing shallow and his eyes were dilated.

"Jane, you need to focus. I need you here. Your going into shock. Jane! Rigsby forget the crowd, find where that ambulance is."

* * *

><p>The darkness crept in. It's long fingers grabbed and clawed and choked the light from the partly cloudy sky. It was never sunny here, not anymore. He was used to that. He killed the sun. All that remained were gray skies.<p>

Then the rain came down, first at a steady pace, then came the lightning and the high winds, and before he knew it he was engulfed by a torrential downpour with hurricane force winds. He knew he should seek shelter, wait until the storm passed. The skies would gray again, but the darkness sang a siren song, just past the edge. It called to him with promises of peaceful slumber and he was just so tired. Just one step.

The palace was under fire. The demons were storming. He could see their leader, a terrible being in a red mask, give the order to destroy everything in sight. It was coming from all sides. Surrounded. This was not the first time the palace had been under fire, and it took a while for him to rebuild. Some parts were still not the same.

Surrender. Just one step. It would be all over. No more blood. No more destruction. No more smiley faces.

He had surrendered to the darkness before. It took him a while to climb out from the abyss, and he didn't know if he had the conviction to do it a second time. He was just so tired.

From the distance there was an authoritative yell. The angry, armed princess (minus the tiara), beckoned for him. Step away from the ledge, she commanded. Step away from the ledge before he fell. She would protect him from danger. She tried to usher him away to safety, away to more stable ground. She grabbed for him, but he was just out of her reach. Her loyal rottweiler stood next to her pacing anxiously, a worried look on his face. The dog had also made several attempts to reel him in, but had not succeeded.

The princess called out again. Her voice a beacon of light, pierced through the darkness and chased some of the marauders away. She told the dog to call for reinforcements, and chase the intruders out.

The princess walked over to the ledge disregarding her safety. She peered into the darkness that lingered. He feared its tendril would grab for her. The demon was back. He told her to get away, it wasn't safe, but she held her ground.

She grabbed his hand firmly and gently guided him away from the edge.

He reluctantly followed.

* * *

><p>He laughed.<p>

Jane's laughter was unnerving and it scared her. It was a humorless, maniacal laugh and he was the only one who got the joke.

"Jane?" Lisbon hesitated. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him to face her.

"He got me. I was two steps ahead, but he was four... He got me good..."

"Who?" She asked, afraid to know the answer. The look in his eyes scared her. He had the same look he got when they were doing one thing. But it was more raw. Intense. Pure. He was not masking his true emotions.

"That was good. I never expected it."

"Jane, Red John is dead."

"He just wants you to think he's dead."

"Jane."

"He is not dead."

"Jane, Red John is gone."

"He's not dead!" Jane snapped. "That was good. Have me think Finkle was him. Next time I have to make sure, before I kill him. You guys aren't going to find any useable evidence in my motel room..."

"Evidence?"

"He's a cunning bastard, I got to wait next time have forensic evidence tell me that he is who he says he is. I'm sure I can't read him. He's a sociopath..."

Lisbon's phone went off in her pocket. She looked down it was an urgent message from Cho. It read-

_Boss, you need to come down to Jane's now._

There were a couple of pictures attached. One was the smiley face on the mirror and was of the bathroom as a whole.

"Had Finkle tell me about my wife, and the shampoo... Do you think I could shoot him after the trial?"

She stared at him in disbelief. After all that's happened he would go through with his original plan of revenge. She would join Cho at the crime scene later. Right now she wanted to make sure Jane was okay. Lisbon text Cho of their situation, and he replied that he would take care of things.

"I would have to get a gun through the metal detectors. Plastic or ceramic is the way to go."

"Jane!"

Jane snapped back to reality. He looked momentarily confused.

Lisbon watched him carefully, trying to gauge his mental state.

"I'm okay. I'm not going to shoot him." He told them. Jane smiled and she didn't believe.

Lisbon glanced over to Rigsby who seemed to be favoring one leg over the other. He managed to keep the crowd at bay with the help of couple of local LEOs. He walked over when he noticed Lisbon looking at him.

"I'm taking you both to the hospital." Lisbon said as she stood up.

"I'm fine." Rigsby assured her. "I'll walk it off. Really, I'm fine."

"So am I. Just a bit out of sorts," Jane said. "I'm okay now."

She could see the wheel in his head turn. He was already plotting and planing. His sole purpose was given back to him and it was a like a fire was lit under him.

"Your hand." Lisbon pointed.

"Just a scratch," Jane flexed his hand for good measure. He tried not to wince in pain.

"You're bleeding, boss," Rigsby pointed out.

"Damn, I must have popped a stitch," Lisbon said.

"Sorry," Jane whispered.

"I guess it's a group trip to the hospital?" Rigsby joked.

"Can we swing back to the hotel room I wanna grab a beer? I saw a case on the landing. I could really use a drink." Jane said.

"I think I broke most of them when I tripped over the case trying to chase you," Rigsby told them.

"Sorry. I felt a bit closed in and needed some space," Jane explained.

"No, my fault anyway. I put them there. We were trying to have a surprise got out of jail party," Rigsby said.

"That was very kind of all of you," Jane smiled.

"Don't look at me I was passed out on the couch. It was all Rigsby and Cho."

"It was a sweet gesture."

"Let's go. Both of you."

The two men grumbled something incoherently but followed Lisbon to the ambulance.

* * *

><p>They were alone in one of the exam rooms. The doctors had finished stitching them up and had taken Rigsby to radiology to x-ray his knee as a precaution.<p>

"I know I screwed up." Jane finally spoke.

"Jane now is not the time," Lisbon said.

"I jumped the gun so to speak. Let my emotions get the best of me. I put all my cards on the table and in the end I still lost. I've only managed to get the captain instead of the general."

"Jane, you inadvertently put a serial killer out of commission. That's got to be worth something."

His plans for vengeance all ruined.

All his years of planning and waiting all for nothing.

His family was still not avenged.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

** I hope I'm keeping you guys amused. I know I am. lol.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer- See previous chapters.**

**[Chapter 14]**

* * *

><p>He wanted to go to his motel room, home away from home, which now shared more similarities.<p>

Jane wandered listlessly down the street. He'd signed himself out AMA and gave Lisbon the slip. His last days of freedom were dwindling, Jane didn't want to be cooped up inside.

His mind raced and Jane couldn't focus his thoughts. A long drive always helped him think, but his car was impounded after the incident in the mall. He would have settled for a nap, but his current housing was an active crime scene. His comfy brown leather couch was also out of the question. Jane was pretty sure he was unemployed.

He stuck his thumb out towards the passing cars. His Malibu house was the only option. The house that ceased to be home was over four hundred miles away, but provided scenic open spaces. Sitting on the bluff, overlooking the ocean as the waves crashed onto shore would help clear his mind. It had always done so in the past.

"What are you doing?" Cho pulled up in his sedan.

"Trying to hitch a ride back to Malibu," Jane answered.

"Hitchhiking is illegal in the state of California. I can arrest you."

"That wouldn't be good a few hours after making bail."

"No."

"Jane!" Lisbon hurried down the street. "Where are you going? Stop wandering off."

"I just needed some air. I need to clear my head. I've spent too much time in small spaces. I was looking for an wide open space, no walls."

"You look like you're about to collapse. You need to rest. You can crash on my couch. You can sit in the park or whatever in the morning."

"I've got your stuff from the motel room," Cho added. "You didn't have a lot of stuff there. I packed your clothes and your journal. It was sitting on the nightstand. Get in, I'll drive you there."

* * *

><p>"The bathroom is there," Lisbon pointed. "The towels are in the closet on the left."<p>

Lisbon was being a gracious host. He nodded his head and let her continued, even though he knew where everything was from the last time he was here.

"Help yourself to anything in the fridge, which isn't much. I haven't had time to shop yet," Lisbon continued.

"It's fine, I'll manage. Is there-"

"Second cabinet on the right. Mugs in the next cabinet, milk in the fridge. It should still be good."

Jane bee lined for the kitchen, journal in hand. Lisbon shook her head and could not help but laugh.

"Want?"

"No thanks."

"You don't have to fuss over me," he added grabbing a cup from the cupboard. "You've done enough. There is one thing though."

"Yes?"

"Can I bother you for a pen? I want to write a few things down."

"There's a pack of pen in the drawer underneath the microwave."

"I'll get you a blanket and a pillow. Do you need anything else?"

After making himself a cup if tea, Jane sat down and began writing in his journal.

"Jane?"

Still no response he sat in his seat jotting his thoughts down in his journal.

"Jane."

"Hmm? Sorry Lisbon, did you say something?"

"Good night Jane."

"Good night, Lisbon."

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Lisbon," Jane grinned. He sat in the same spot she left him, scribbling away, a cup of tea in front of him. "I hope you don't mind, but I've invited the boys over for brunch. We didn't want to wake you, but if you don't hurry up Rigsby might not leave any for you."<p>

Jane snapped the journal shut as Lisbon approached and motioned to the food that sat on the stove.

"Hey, I wouldn't do that," Rigsby waved. "But this is really good..."

Cho nodded hello. "He's on his third plate."

"How's your knee?" Lisbon asked.

"Fine. Good. I'll be as good as new in a couple of days," Rigsby said.

"Good. You cooked?" Lisbon asked glancing over towards Jane.

"The hash browns Jane made are great," Rigsby beamed. "Everything is good."

"The eggs were good," Cho added from his spot on the couch.

"I had eggs? And hash browns."

"And bacon..." Rigsby added.

"Now, I know I didn't have bacon."

"You were asleep. I borrowed your car and went to the store to restocked your fridge."

"Jane are you okay?" Lisbon asked after making herself a plate and some coffee. She took a seat across from Jane. The man still looked exhausted. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Some. I'm fine, just a little tired. I'll take a nap later. I made a mess there," he motioned towards the sink full of dishes. "I'll clean that up in a bit. Why do you ask?"

"First you go from writing in that book furiously non-stop like a madman, you've made breakfast. Now, you are just sitting there grinning. I'm beginning to wonder about you."

"Isn't it a little late for that?" Cho quipped.

"What were you writing anyway?" Rigsby asked between mouthfuls of hash browns.

"Plotting my revenge," Jane nonchalantly answered as he sipped his tea.

Lisbon slammed her utensils down on to the table, her coffee slosh and spilled onto the marble table.

"What! You've got to be kidding me..." Lisbon started.

Rigsby stopped eating and nervously glanced between the two.

"You really are an idiot! You took someone's life at the mall and went into a near catatonic state. And here you are, ready to do it all over again. You're a stupid, selfish bastard you know that..." Lisbon continued.

"I'm a selfish bastard?" Jane asked.

"Yes you are. You don't think of the consequences to your actions and how they affect others around you. Your friends, your colleagues, the bystanders at the mall..."

"They are inconsequential. It's all inconsequential. I've never hid my intentions. I told you from the start what I was going to do. If that makes me a selfish bastard then fine. I am a selfish bastard," Jane raised his voice.

"Inconsequential? We're all inconsequential? There are always consequences. Just like on that talk show when you taunted Red John..." Lisbon yelled back.

Jane was stricken. He stood up and began to pace in the living room.

"Jane, I'm sorry I didn't mean that. To compare the two..." Lisbon backpedaled.

"No, you meant it. Yes, each action resulted in someone losing a life."

"Guys! Why don't we just calm down we can talk about this as rational..." Rigsby interjected.

"I'm rational. She's being irrational. I will kill Red John," Jane affirmed.

"You know what? I don't care what you do." Lisbon stormed into the living room, picked up his bag and threw it at him. "Just go. I'm done."

"Fine." He grabbed his bag and slammed the front door as he left.

After a few moments, Rigsby quietly spoke, "Boss..."

"I'm sorry, but I just want to be alone," she told her two agents.

"Sure. Come on Rigs," Cho put a hand on the taller man's shoulder.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>It was suppose to be be a gesture of thanks, but brunch did not go well.<p>

Jane slung the overnight bag over his shoulder and walked along the curb with his thumb out. He need to find his car, and get his affairs in order before Tuesday's court date. The thought of standing on line and dealing with bureaucrats did not appeal to him especially on a Saturday afternoon. That was if they were open.

"Hello." Jane smiled as a car stopped next to him. "I'm trying to get downtown and I've lost my wallet. Can you give me a ride?"

"Sure hop in." The man smiled.

Cho pulled up next to the sedan and honked his horn until the driver turned towards him.

"Hey!" Cho flashed his badge, giving the driver a menacing look.

"I wasn't picking up a hitchhiker, Officer. I was just going to, uh, ask, for um, for some directions," the man stammered. "Yeah that's it..."

"Get out of here," Cho told him.

The man complied and quickly sped off.

"Get in," Cho flung the passenger door open. "What are you going to do now?"

"I was trying to get downtown to find my car."

"It's in police impound, you won't be able to get it until Monday."

"Well, that saved me the trip."

"You can stay in my guest room for now."

"Thanks Cho."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**[Chapter 15]**

* * *

><p>"It was hard trying to explain it to my folks, you know," Grace explained. "The seemingly great guy I was marrying was working for a serial killer, who killed my friend's family, and was just using me to get information."<p>

"I can imagine. Some days I don't believe how this whole thing went down." Rigsby reclined on the couch with his laptop. He had just gotten home from brunch and Skype Grace, who was still on leave.

"It's like some sick movie plot... Are those crutches?" She asked changing the subject.

"Well no," Rigsby kicked them and with a thud they fell out of sight. "I mean, yes."

"What happen?"

"I tripped. I'm fine. They gave them to me when I was released from the emergency room, but I don't need them. I haven't had a chance to toss them in the closet yet."

"How did you fall?"

"Too much excitement at Jane's out of jail party."

"Sounded like fun."

"That's- one way to describe it."

"Wayne, what aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing. Everything's good. Well, good enough. I mean, Jane's gonna do jail time, Lisbon is pissed, and Cho is Cho."

"Wayne, tell me the truth. I can tell that you're hiding something."

"I'm not hiding anything."

"What happened?"

"You have enough on your mind."

"And this is going to bother me until you tell me what happen."

"Red John might still be alive," he mumbled quickly.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>The quiet stillness of her apartment left her with nothing but her thoughts.<p>

She was furious. Counting backwards from ten never did for her, nor did counting from a hundred. Lisbon tried repeating 'I will relax' like a mantra as she picked up the dishes that littered the table.

Anger management be dammed. She hurled the dish across the room, with another and another. The dishes shattered and crashed to the floor. The sound they made was more satisfying than anything they taught her in class.

After cleaning up the mess. She made a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Jane's journal was there, where he left it hours before.

All these year working with him, she thought she had him figured out. It was an invasion of privacy, but her inquisitive nature was getting the best of her. She opened the journal and began reading.

It broke her heart when she realized each entry was a letter to his wife.

* * *

><p>The blades of grass tickled his bare feet as he walk. It was early Saturday evening, the sun just melted into the horizon, giving way to the moon and the clear night sky. The temperature was warm, but comfortable with little to no humidity.<p>

Jane made this way across the clearing.

His mind still raced. Jane tried to focus on nothing but the things before him. The lush green grass at his feet. The earthy browns of the tree barks that lined the distance. The blends of red, yellow and green on the apples that hung on a tree to his left.

Jane hung his head. He had failed. Red John was still on the loose.

"Daddy! Watch me..."

Patrick head shot up at the familiar voice. He watched as his daughter attempted to do a cartwheel on the grass. She wasn't quite getting it and tumbled half way. She giggled and laughed as she tried again.

"Daddy watch me. I can do it."

Patrick never took his eyes off his child as he made his way closer. Her laughter rang out like music to his ears, pure happy and content. He watched as Angela came into view. She was sitting on a bench, wearing a simple sun dress. She waved and he grinned. His worries floated away in the summer breeze.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

He took a seat next to her. The light scent of coal tar and lavender soothed his soul.

"Mommy, show me again?"

"I'll be right there sweetie," she told the child then turned to Patrick. "You look tired, you need to stop overworking yourself. Whatever it is it'll work out. Here have a drink."

She pulled a resealable plastic pitcher out of the cooler sitting next to her and poured him an ice cold glass of tea.

"Now promise me you'll just relax," Angie fussed.

He nodded.

Their soft laughter set his mind at ease. It was so quiet, peaceful he found himself slowly drift off.

"Daddy!"

He snapped awake at the shrill cry of his daughter and stood so fast that he knocked over their picnic dinner. His cup still in his hand sloshed around, spilling sticky amber liquid. Patrick looked for any signs of danger, ready to protect his family, by any means necessary.

Charlotte ran towards her mother.

"Who are you you're? You're not my daddy!" The child wailed.

"What are you talking about? It's me sweetie."

The weight in his hand shifted to something heavier, more sinister. He was no longer holding the tumbler, but a hunk of metal with a rubber grip, a Ruger. His hands were still sticky, but they weren't covered in sun tea. Jane stared at his bloody hands and the smoking gun.

He looked down at himself, and Jane saw he was covered in blood, Finkle laid at his feet. The blood pooled reaching his bare toes as it stained everything in its path, consuming, until all he saw was red.

Angela scooped up the child and slowly backed away.

"No wait! I did it for you."

"Who are you? You are not the man I married. Get away from us!"

"No, wait!"

* * *

><p>Jane jerked awake. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep on a park bench. Another nightmare and he forced the tears of frustration and sorrow back.<p>

He made his way back to Cho's house and was sitting on the stoop for about an hour, when Cho came out and bumped into him.

"What are you doing?" Cho asked.

"I was debating on stealing your car, jumping bail, and disappearing never to be seen again," Jane said.

"Uh huh." Cho sat next to him. "You gonna dye your hair black and come up with another identity, start anew."

"Sure. Patrick? No, my name is Arthur."

"It would help if you had the keys."

"Do you think I need the keys?"

"Probably not."

"You're not going to try and talk me out of it?"

"No," Cho paused. "You've made your mind up along time ago. Are you just going to sit here all night?"

"I was thinking about it."

"You don't mean the inconsequential thing. The long con blew up in your face."

"I wasn't conning you guys."

"You were in the beginning."

"It doesn't matter anymore does it?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Kimball?" Elise approached the walkway.

"I've got to go," Cho said. "I can stay. She'll understand."

"No. Don't let me keep you. Enjoy your evening."

"The keys are on the table."

"Thanks Cho."

* * *

><p>It was a little past midnight before Jane went inside. He'd finally talked himself out of moping. This was just a minor set back. Jail would be another set back.<p>

After making himself a cup of tea and a sandwich. He took a seat at the dining room table. Jane chuckled. Cho actually left the keys on the table. But the thing that caught Jane's eye was Cho's bag that sat on the far end. There peaked out several file folders. Upon closer inspection, they were the current Red John/Finkle case, complete with photos and witness statements.

Jane spent the rest of the night with a hot cup of tea and the files.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer- They are like little action figures I do not own, but have the incisive need to play with. CBS owns them. Mr. Heller made them. No money is, was, or ever will be made from this. **

**[Chapter 16]**

* * *

><p>They were nothing more than photos of photos, the original were logged as evidence back at CBI headquarters. Jane stared at the fifteen photos spread out on Cho's dining room table.<p>

Their smiling faces stared back at him and Jane wished more than anything to be the man in the photos. That man, despite being an arrogant, self centered, jerk, was happy. He had a home, a family that loved him, and the financial means to do whatever he wanted. The man in the photo was everything his father groomed him to be. A predator preying on marks, for the thrill of the hunt. The smartest man in the room. The best at reading people and able bleed the mark dry.

The man who destroyed his world.

Staring at the photos brought the guilt back tenfold.

'Guilt is for marks'. His brother in laws words' echoed in his head.

The frustration and anger welled up. Red John played him for the fool and he took the bait.

It was too quiet here. He needed to get out, away from his thoughts and away from the photos scattered around the table reminding him of his former life.

Jane grabbed his jacket and strolled though the quiet pre-dawn street with no destination.

He walked until his feet protested.

He walked until his stomach rumbled.

He walked until he felt lightheaded and exhausted, and had no choice but to sit down for a few minutes. The world spun a little and it was a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

Jane found himself in a different park a few miles away Cho's house. There was some sort of festival taking place. He bought himself a soda and snack and watched the people hustle to get everything set up.

"Patrick! Patrick, if you can answer a few questions," Karen Cross snuck up behind him with a camera crew. She was here to cover the event, but spotted Jane sitting on the bench. She sat next to him and pushed a mic in his face.

"I'd love to Karen, but I am quite busy." Jane stood. "I need to go."

"Just a short interview."

"Mr. Jane!" Another reporter ran towards him. "Is it true that you had a nervous break down and were walking down the streets catatonic."

"Back off! I was here first," Karen jumped in front of the approaching reporter.

"Patrick! Patrick! How did it feel shooting him?" Another reporter appeared. "Going back to the scene of the crime?"

"Will you people just leave me alone?" Jane asked.

The reporters began arguing with each other. Jane hurried off and escaped into the crowd.

Jane made it curbside and hopped into a cab.

He needed a place where he wouldn't be bothered.

* * *

><p>The crisp sea air filled her lungs, waking her groggy senses. She stepped out of the car and stretched her legs. Four hundred miles was a long drive from Sacramento, but hadn't answered his phone and this as the only place she thought he would be.<p>

Lisbon approached the porch and twisted the handle, surprised to find the door open.

"Jane? Are you in here?" Lisbon poked her head though the door.

"It's not for sale, and is private property, not that anyone would want to live here anyway. You are trespassing. Please leave, before I call the police."

"I know what happened here." Lisbon shut the door and approached the older man with the salt and pepper hair.

"So you're a thrill seeker? There are plenty of people trying to break in here lately. This place is of local lore. The place where Red John left his mark."

"I'm actually looking for the owner. Have you seen him?"

"Your a reporter, then? Most have them left. You a straggler?"

"No. I'm a colleague of Jane's. I really need to talk to him."

"I haven't seen him."

"The blinds are down."

"He's not here."

"Are you sure? And you are?"

"How do I know that you aren't a reporter?"

"I'm with CBI," she said after reaching into her picked and flashing her badge.

"Sorry. There have been a lot of reporters and people poking around lately. My name is Henry. I live in the pool house, in turn I keep the grounds, sort through the mail, and make sure the bills get mailed. Mr. Jane isn't here."

"Are you sure?"

"You're Lisbon."

"Yes."

"He's mentioned you. Feel free to look." Henry turned and headed back to the pool house. "Just lock up before you leave."

Lisbon entered the house. The stark contrast of things was the first thing she noticed. The multi-million dollar home on the outside was pristine and well groomed. The inside told a different story. Little rays of sunshine tried to poke though the vertical blinds with little luck and barely illuminated the house. She stared at discolored voids on the wall and wondered what kinds of pictures or memorabilia they once held.

"Jane are you here?" she called out as her footfalls echoed through the hollow house. She passed a red tricycle. It's tassels faded, the white seat now a pale yellow, weathered from age. "Jane?"

She made her way up the stairs and opened the door. The first thing she was greeted by was the smiley and the mattress underneath.

She would never say it to him, but there were days she feared for his sanity. Sleeping in the room where your wife was killed under the killer's calling card did not help his case. Lisbon cautiously placed her hand on the smiley, afraid if she touched it, it's evil would burn her.

She backed up and sat on the carpet and watched the smiley face, wondering where Jane went.

* * *

><p>"Oh hey," Rigsby opened the door. "Come in."<p>

"Sorry to bother you," Jane stepped inside the apartment. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, it's okay, I wasn't sleeping. I was just reading." Rigsby replied after trying to smooth out his bed head hair. He managed to flatten only part of his hair, but the sides stuck out every which way like a porcupine. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Thank you, but you sit. Stay off your knee." Jane told him.

"It's fine," Rigsby replied. "How's your hand? I know hitting something the wrong way can really hurt."

"Uh, it's fine. It doesn't hurt," Jane lied. He was using it to keep his mind focused, flexing it when he felt the impending walls come closing in.

"So, uh, what's up?"

"I just wanted to sit here and watch TV for a while."

"Really?"

"I'm bothering you."

"No. No. It's just you want to watch TV. Here?"

"Yes. That's why I came here," Jane lied again. It was the closest place away from the prying reporters. "Cho doesn't have cable. Or a TV. Just lots and lots of books. And more books."

"Yeah, he doesn't own a TV. Just let me clear a spot on the couch for you and we can watch anything you want."

"I didn't take you for a tabloid kinda guy. In Touch?"

"What? That's Sports Illustrated," Rigsby picked up the magazines that were scattered across the cushions and tossed them behind the couch where Jane couldn't see them.

"Are you going to have a problem getting those later?"

"Don't worry about it."

"You don't want me to know what you were reading?"

"No. Sports illustrated, National Geographic..."

"I didn't know Brad and Angelina were on the cover of National Geographic," Jane chuckled. "Ashamed? Think I'm going to make fun of your choice of recreation?"

"No." Rigsby hastily flicked the TV on. The television showed a syndicated rerun of a TV talk show.

"..._Well Davis, true demonic evil burns like fire, it burns with a terrible cold dark flame. I force myself to look into that flame and I see an image of the evil doer.._."

Jane stared at himself on the TV, and flexed his hand slowly, fixated.

"_... in this case Red John..._"

"Oh... " Rigsby flicked to the next channel, a news program.

"_... sparks acts of vigilantism. I find it appalling that Mr. Jane is only being charged with a misdemeanor weapon..._"

Rigsby flicked the channel again.

"_... oh barnacles..._"

This time the TV stopped on SpongeBob.

Jane took a seat on the couch and focused on the flashing, almost hypnotic, lights of the brightly colored cartoon.

_"...Don't worry, tomorrow we'll be back for more frolic and fun..." _

Jane closed his eyes, exhaustion finally taking it's toll, and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>He jolted awake, slightly disorientated, smacking his wounded hand into the coffee table. Jane yelped in pain, sat up dropping the comforter that lay on top of him to the floor, and looked around slightly confused to where he was.<p>

"You fell asleep." Rigsby pulled the headphones off his head and set the Stratocaster he was playing down across his lap.

"What time is it?" Jane asked cradling his hand.

"3:00 pm. You okay?"

"Fine. At least I got a few hours sleep."

"It's Monday. It was more than a few hours."

"Really?" He stood up and stretched. "You're couch is comfy, like the one in the office."

"Or it's your body telling you that you need sleep. You've been up for days."

"I've been sleeping."

"Uh huh."

Rigsby picked the guitar and played a few chords.

"The Boss is looking for you, but didn't want me to tell you that. She seemed relieved that you were here," Rigsby sang after a few power chords.

Jane chuckled at the way Rigsby was relaying information to him. "Keeping tabs huh?"

"Sounded worried," he continued to sing. "I said you were sleeping and she told me not to wake you. I made you a sandwich, but you were out. It's now in the fridge. Eat and rest up. I'll take you to court tomorrow."

"I don't want to impose."

"It's not a problem. What are friends for?"

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer- They are like little action figures I do not own, but have the incisive need to play with. CBS owns them. Mr. Heller made them. No money is, was, or ever will be made from this.**

**[Chapter 17]**

* * *

><p>"Did you hear?" Cho asked Rigsby as they drove to the courthouse for sentencing. They had swung by and picked up Cho from his house and a freshly pressed suit for Jane.<p>

"No what?" Rigsby asked.

"LaRoche stepped down." Cho informed him.

"What really? I thought he liked being head agent."

"He only saw it as a temporary position. They reinstated Hightower as temporary head agent."

"Temporary?"

"Yeah temporary. There's apparently some backlash on how she handled the whole Todd Johnson incident. I hear they're looking for new candidates for her job, and the she's going to be demoted. Allegedly."

"Wow, do you know who our new boss will be?" Rigsby asked.

"No."

The pulled up to the courthouse.

"You ready?" Cho turned to Jane who was quiet in the back seat.

"As ready as any man walking into the gallows," Jane answered.

Cameras snapped and reporters pushed microphones into Jane's face as he exited the car. Local law enforcement tried to keep them at bay, while hurrying them along inside the court house. Rigsby and Cho walked with Jane between them, repeating the words 'no comment' to every question asked.

They found Lisbon and Sawyer waiting for them inside.

"You're here."

Lisbon reached up and slapped him across the face. She glared towards Rigsby, Cho and Sawyer, who took that as a hint to quickly move away. Court security even decided not to intervene.

"Much better," she let out a cleansing breath.

"I deserved that," Jane rubbed his face. "I'm actually surprised you didn't do it sooner."

"Must be the anger management classes," Lisbon said. "My counselor says I shouldn't keep thing bottled up inside. I should let things go."

"I can't let this go. It's like Red John ripped out a piece of my soul. I've tried to fill it with other things, but they just don't fit."

" 'They just float away or disappear...' "

"You read my journal."

"You left it on the table."

"That's the one thing I never wanted from you. The one look I never saw in your eyes," Jane frowned. "Please don't, this is my fate. Don't pity me."

"Jane."

"I know Angie would not approve, if she knew I did this. I know this is atonement for my arrogance. I know helping you solve crimes will never tip the scale in my favor."

Lisbon thought about the million dollar house, all pretty and shiny on the outside, and the dark and empty house on the inside.

"So stop. Get away from it all. Red John. Take a break. There has to be other things you want to to in life," she said.

"I can't. This is the only thing that drives me. Without this I have nothing."

"Jane you have plenty. You're just to stubborn to see it. Cho said you were gone and I went looking for you. The only place I thought you'd go was Malibu."

"I was hanging out with Rigsby. Cho doesn't own a TV and it was a little too quiet there," Jane explained. "Did you know that Rigsby plays the guitar? Plays quite well actually."

"Mr. Jane?" Sawyer called to him. "Let's go."

"You can't say that I didn't keep thing interesting."

"Interesting is not the word I would choose..."

"Why Lisbon-"

"Mr. Jane, please," Sawyer motioned him towards the court room.

"Thanks Lisbon. I have to go."

"I know. I'll be in the gallery with Rigsby and Cho. Good luck."

* * *

><p>He sat in his chair and stared down at the faux mahogany table in front of him, waiting for the judge to finish speaking on the charges. Jane looked up when Sawyer nudged him and sentencing began.<p>

"Mr. Jane is sentenced to three thousand hours of community service and will be released into the custody of12th street halfway house until other housing arrangements can be made. The court also mandates that the defendant also receive six months of counseling."

Jane shook his head.

"Is there a problem Mr. Jane?"

"Yes your honor..." Jane spoke as his lawyer glared towards him to shut up.

"Sit down now!" Lisbon scolded behind him. "Shut up."

"Your Honor if I may speak?" Rigsby stood up from his seat in the gallery before Jane and Lisbon could begin their argument.

"And you are?"

"My name is Wayne Rigsby. I am an agent with the CBI."

"What is it Agent?"

"Thank you ma'am. He will be staying with me. The halfway house isn't necessary."

"Rigsby?" Jane questioned.

"I got to take care of the team," Rigsby said. "You are part of the team. My home office has futon. You can stay there. Plus, I have TV."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Lisbon sat in Hightower's office and watched as her boss placed the photos and portraits that were previously packed away back to their spot on her desk.<p>

"Are you sure?" Hightower asked.

"Yes. This is our case. We will see it to the end, the very end. We will find Red John and his associates. No matter what."

"The evidence we found at Finkle's is being turned over to the FBI. The house alone will keep them going for months. They're in the process of identifying the bodies. And they are trying to save face after the whole O'Laughlin fiasco. It doesn't look good on them that one of their own was working for a serial killer. They promise to keep us informed."

"That's good."

"I guess the first act as Special Agent In Charge is to reassign your team back to the Red John case."

"And my consultant?"

"Does he want to come back? Do you even want him back?"

"Yes. We are a team. He'll keep going until he catches Red John."

"That's good to hear," Hightower continued. "Though I may be bias. He, in the end, saved my life."

"Yes ma'am."

"And he did find the mole."

"Yes ma'am."

"You can have him back, pending the psych evaluation. Mandatory. Bertram tacked on another six months to the sentence."

"Yes ma'am."

"You can talk to me you know. I am your superior, but I do consider you a friend. You know he'll just tell the psychiatrists what they want to hear, but I know you'll have a better gauge on his mental state."

"Yes ma'am."

"But be warned, the next crime he commits, the DA will seek the maximum penalty, even if it's jaywalking."

"I know."

"Keep a tighter leash on him."

"I'll try."

* * *

><p>It was a few days later and Jane sat on Rigsby couch flipping through the paper trying to find a new place to live. Apparently having a serial killer draw a bloody smiley face in a mirror, smashing said mirror, then have cops swarm the place was enough to get you evicted from your current housing and your security deposit kept by management.<p>

"Are you going to mope on my the couch all day?" Rigsby called from the bedroom as he got dressed.

"You know I hypnotized you. You don't have to be nice to me," Jane informed him. "I told you, you needed to take care of the team."

"And you are part of the team," Rigsby said as he hurried into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. "Besides, the Boss told me about that."

"Did she now?"

"Yeah, before you went to court the first time."

"Oh."

"Hurry up and get dressed. We need to go."

"Where are we going?"

"To work." Rigsby tossed him his consultant id. "We are re-assigned the Red John case. You coming or what?"

* * *

><p>"Welcome back," Lisbon told Jane as he poked his head through her office door.<p>

"Thank you Lisbon."

"Oh and Jane..."

"Yes Lisbon?"

"You owe me a new set of dishes."

He stepped further into the office and sat down across from her. Jane tilted his head slightly and gave her a puzzled look. "Uh, sure Lisbon. Can I pick the pattern?"

"You can help pick the pattern," Lisbon smiled. "Jane promise me one thing."

"Yes Lisbon?"

"No more guns."

"I swear no more guns," he repeated with his right hand up. "Scouts honor."

"Do you really?"

"Yes. No more guns."

"Okay good…"

The next time he caught up to Red John, Jane swore to himself that he would kill him with this bare hands.

* * *

><p><strong>The End, for now.<strong>

**First off-**

**Thank you to everyone who left a review. Thank you to everyone who story alerted, added to their favorites, and read this to the end.**

**Thank you!**

**Thank you! :D**

**I finally made it to what I perceive as an ending.**

** I know I didn't resolve a few things. My brain plays the stories I write like episodes. **

**There is a next episode. I've got 2 chapters down, though I'm not quite sure if I like them or not and that's why they are not posted yet. I'm still debating on the title. I've got the plot, like Grace's return, the photos significance, community service, a case, some repercussions and such.  
><strong>

**I also gotta keep up with my new years resolution of writing for at least an hour before I'm a Gangsta in Space dealing with ethical climaxes or saving the mall with duct tape and such. You get me? :D**

**Thanks for reading.**


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